


Writting prompt - Arcana oc

by Layers_bloody_sun



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff and Angst, This is going to be sad, like real big sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 30,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24613342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layers_bloody_sun/pseuds/Layers_bloody_sun
Summary: Watch me crying over stupid prompts where i just hurt Cana to no end...
Relationships: Apprentice & Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice & Lucio (The Arcana), Apprentice & Muriel (The Arcana), Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Apprentice/Portia Devorak, Portia Devorak/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 62
Kudos: 6





	1. "What happened to her ?"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Racoonims](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racoonims/gifts).



Cana looked up, not expecting the question. "Who are you talking about Muri ?" They were under the coliseum after one of Muriel's many fights as the Count executioner. The young woman had come down every day after sunset for the past year, tending to his wounds and making sure he was doing well. She also was the one he would turn to when he needed to talk; not like he had many other optons.

"You know who...the daughter of that man..."  
"That is so unspecific..."

He growled lowly and averted his eyes. He never liked to talk about the ones he killed, sometimes she felt he would rather forget he ever shed the blood of anyone. He was not a violent man, from what Asra told her he never was, and yet he was forced to be because her idiot of a brother had he power to. Cana gently stroke his hand and smirked when he blushed. One thing with him was that she needed to be patient, he wasn't talkative, it even was very weird for him to ask her something like that out of the blue. She waited until he mustered whatever he needed to continue

"The daughter of the bartender. The red head girl. What happened to her"

Oh so that was what they were talking about. That probably was the case that struck him the most. About two months ago Lucio had a poor man executed for "high treason". All he did was accidentally spilling some beer on his expensive clothing. Muriel had to kill a lot of innocent people each day, but when the young girl has screamed her father's name as he drew his last breath, the mountain of a man she had before her was just so shocked he almost forgot to move. Cana would watch each fight to reassure him afterward, she had never saw him so terrified of what he had done. Back to the present, she squeezed his hand in hers and smiled

"Her name is Mélusine if you wanna know. And she's fine..."

She saw his shoulder relaxing ever so slightly. She didn't knew if the next part was going to get him thrilled but she though it was only fair to add

"Actually... she's living with me and Asra right now..."  
The Scourge looked up in surprise and mostly disbelief  
"W-Wha-..Why ?"  
"Well a week ago there was this storm right ? Poor girl broke into the shop to save herself from the cold, she was drenched... she had nowhere to go so we couldn't just throw her out again. Shes's very nice, tries to help all the time, but oh God is she clumsy..."  
"She'll probably hate you both when she learn you're friends with me."

Cana heard him add a little 'couldn't blame her' under his breath. His gaze was aiming at the ground, dark and almost angry looking. She didn't say anything, one of the hardest thing with him was debating his worth. Even though she loved him so much, even though her heart would just twist and hurt every time she saw him like this, it was like a wall, impossible to even make a dent in it. She brushed a lock of his long hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear. The gesture was enough to get rid of that dark glare, replacing it with another blush, a pout even as he looked away from her once again.

"I think she's terrified. Shes three years younger than me you know, she hasn't been raised to be strong. You can't blame her for being scared. But I think...I think she's loving enough, to overcome that, to try and learn who you really are."  
"Why should she, he scoffed. I murdered her father."  
"Lucio forced you to."  
"His blood is on my hands not his."

"You're not nearly as bad as you think you are Muri."  
"You keep saying this every time..."  
"Well, one, you can't blame a girl for trying. And two, she kissed his bruised knuckles, maybe one day it'll get through to you."

He blushed even redder and lowered his eyes, bringing his long dark hair to cover his face, grumbling something under her breath she didn't catch : the discussion was over for a while. Cana went back to tending to his wounds, not making a sound in the comfortable silence that always followed their little chats. In the back of her head, she hoped that he and Mélusine could become friends later on, she'd love to see his circle of friends grew wider than her, Asra and Faust... She smiled at the though of all of them happy. Maybe the future would be kind, who knows.


	2. "Is this it ?"

Cana looked around her. Nothing had changed while she slept. The rooms were crowded with people, dying people. All around her, coughing, crying, praying, children asking their mothers when they could go home, infants yelling with all the might their tiny lungs could muster; murmuring, silent chatter echoing against the cold stone walls, cursing the Count, cursing the Gods, fate, and everything that could be blamed. Not one of them would get out of here alive, neither would she. Maybe Asra had been right, they could have fled the city, by now they would probably all be healthy and well, the four of them.

Did she regret her decision ? No. Even if it turned up to have been a complete waste of time and efforts on her part, she was glad she had chosen to stay. She would have never forgave herself if she had just left Vesuvia behind while it died down. She had hope for the future, even if it was without her. She had worked with Julian for a while, even Valdemart. They did horrible things while trying to find a cure, to no avail. That was what was bothering her. To no avail. Why ? Why didn't they manage to find anything despite everything ? Nothing could help, no scientific cure was found, herbs and spells were just as ineffective. It was like a curse bringing down innocent people as it festered after its victim. Who knows, maybe Montag was to blame for that as well.

How would he react, she though, knowing his little sister was dying of the plague right now ? He was probably thinking she was far away, still in the scourge lands with their mother and half dead tribe. If he though about her at all that was.

A violent cough shook her up, making her wince and hugging herself tighter. She was so weak. She had lost so much weight, she was starving, so thirsty, when was the last time she had drank or eaten something ? They didn't gave them anything here, this place was for the dying, they leave you here to die. Cana shivered as the sound of someone opening the furnace echoed down the dark hallway. All over there, she could see the dancing light of the flames. They never stopped burning, day and night, there was no end to it. The smell of ash and smoke was filling the place, only aggravating the coughing fits of the weaker ones; she used to like this smell, when they would burn a few logs to keep themselves warm; now she couldn't remember any other. Her hand clinched harder on the coat around he shoulder, she was so frail looking now, Morga would probably sneer at the state she was in. Emaciated, greasy hair falling down strand after strand if she passed her hand through them, her cheeks were hollow and she could feel her bones through the skin. The former white of her eyes was constantly burning, she had no tears left to shed, throat dry and hurting. Everything hurt.

Did she had any regrets ? Now was the time, soon enough she wouldn't be able to think rationally, if to think at all. She regretted a lot of things actually. She regretted being too weak to stand up to whatever killed her village. She regretted not being enough to stop Montag from becoming what he was, she regretted leaving Morga behind, regretted not getting Muriel out of the coliseum sooner, regretted coming to Vesuvia at all, regretted...

She let out a deep sigh. That wasn't true, not entirely. Coming to the city had gave her many things to regret indeed, she had let her absolute freedom at the gates, she discovered a world totally different from what she was used to, the new rules and way of living of the city had put her under a lot of stress; seing what Montag had become shook her, the violence he was freely giving the people was too much even for her. She had starved in the streets, lost friends to healable sicknesses or to guards abusing their power. But she wasn't allowed to say she could regret coming here. Cana may have lost a lot, but she gained so many other things as well. If she had the strength to do so, she would cry, thinking about all the wonderful things that happened to her, all the people she had met.

The first one was Asra, they had a rocky debut but quickly became friends, Hell they even opened a magic shop together after a while, and it was thriving. Then there was Muriel, it had been so hard getting his trust but it was all worth it, the moments they had spend together just chatting like there was nothing else to worry about in the world, she wouldn't trade them for anything. Along the line she met Julian, she was introduced to Countess Nadia... And Mélusine, oh her little Mélu, so clumsy, so nice, so brave for still going on despite all the hardship she went through. Little Mélu who spent the first days crying her eyes out because of her father's death, but whose smile would lit up the whole room as soon as she managed a magic trick, no matter how easy it was. She was so easily amazed by the world... the red head was like a little sister to her, she loved her so so very much. Was it what Montag felt when he would smile at her, so long ago ? Did he love her that much ?

Cana shivered once again, despite the furnace burning so ferociously at the end of the hallway, the cold and harsh wind took over as it mercilessly slipped through every crack in the wall, bitting fingers and bare feet that weren't covered enough. It was barely fall, but it was already so cold, the winter would be harsh this year. She wondered if the others would be okay. Muriel would have no problem surviving, he was used to it, the cold and living off little to nothing. But what about Mélusine ? With luck Asra would be back by the time snow would start falling, otherwise maybe Muriel could help ?

Her already weakened heart missed a bit when she heard what could be seen as the clicking of chains. She looked up, freezing a she saw on the other side flamboyant ginger hair... but it was not someone she knew. The chains were actually just kids playing lightly with scraps of metal. The magician let out a deep sigh and just slumped fully against the wall. With each day passing she was more afraid of seeing familiar faces within these walls. Every pair of green eyes, every white fluffy hair, or the simple color orange would send her into an almost hysteric stage. Anything but that, anything but her cherished friends, her family, living up to the same fate. They were too young to die, they still had so much to go through, good and bad. It would just be...without her by their side.

_'What about us ??'_ The though ringed into her head. _'Aren't we too young as well ? We're only 23, we had so much to see, we wanted to cross the sea remember ? We wanted to learn new spells.'_ And yet none of it would happen. _'We didn't apologize to Asra. And we promised Mélu we would try to find her familiar together next spring. We haven't found ours yet either.'_ Maybe it was better like that. She would have felt terrible if she had brought the poor animal with her at the Lazaret. Right now she just felt so tired... _'What if they get sick ? It'll be our fault then, if we had left with Asra they wouldn't have gotten sick at all. They'll die and it'll be our fault.'_ Cana weakly shook her head. They would be fine. _'We're going to leave them all alone. We promised Muriel we would never leave his side and we're just abandoning him.'_ She sniffled, why were all those sour thoughts coming now ? Her eyes were s heavy, she needed to sleep, just a little bit, she'd feel better when she woke up...

_'It's just so unfair...we should have had more time. I don't want to go just yet...'_


	3. "Duty before love"

« I just don't understand why you don't want to go with me! »

Cana brought her hands to her temple. Were they really having this conversation again? Just this week it had already been the fourth time, and they were just starting Wednesday. During the past month the Plague had been creeping closer to the city, and just the last few days it had finally started to bring its red death alongside it, within the walls. Asra had been absolutely impossible since then, he wouldn't stop talking about leaving this place to go somewhere else. Of course it was a nice thought, getting away from the city, going someplace safe where they could relax while it spread. But she couldn't, and he knew it.

"For the last time Asra, I am not leaving. You can do whatever you want, I'm staying."  
"But why is what I don't understand! There's nothing keeping you here, we can all leave and we'll all be okay, would it be you, Mélusine, or even Faust. I just don't get why you're so fixated on staying here!"

Did he really not get it? She would have liked to believe he was just delusional but she was starting to question it.

"I just can't go without trying to do something Asi. I care about the people in this city, I don't want innocent people to die when maybe there's something we can do about this"

She tried to keep her voice steady, calm. She knew she would regret it if she was to have a real confrontation with the white haired man. They were friends, she loved him dearly, and with all the tension she feared maybe they would end up at each other's throat. The look of disbelief he sent back her way finished beating down any ounce of hope she still had: he did not understand; he didn't care about the people of Vesuvia. Not enough to risk his life. Could she blame him though; the city had treated him roughly ever since he came here as a child. If he was not happy to see them die he was not going to get out of his way to help them either; it was their problem and in his mind they could deal with it themselves.

"I'm not asking you to understand, I'm getting pretty clearly you don't. It's just what I want. You know me, you know I'm not kidding when I say that I'd never forgive myself if we find out I could have done something to help."  
"You can't! You can't help them Cana! This is not a flu or a simple sickness, this is a PLAGUE we're talking about! We can't help those people and neither would they help us if we were the ones getting sick. We still have time if we leave now, we can still be sure that we won't risk anything. I know, I can guess how you feel about leaving, but what can we do?"  
"I spoke with Julian the other day, he and some other doctors are trying to find a potential cure, if we could bring our help then maybe we'll figure something out..."

Cana saw his eyes grow dark immediately after she spoke the name Ilya used nowadays. The both of them had a history the younger man would probably wish never happened; he never told her exactly what or why, she had just guessed it through their –rare- interactions. Asra let out a sigh and went forward toward her, taking her hands in his.

"Listen Cana. I know just how much you care. But Ilya? he has no idea what he's doing. Trust me, they won't find anything, we can only wait for the sickness to die out on its own after there's no more people to catch it. I know it sounds cruel, I sound heartless. But I don't want you to die out there, in just a few days there are already so many dead they can barely keep up. I don't want to see you added to the piles rotting in the streets... I couldn't handle it, neither could Mélusine. Really, let's just go. I know this place in Nopal, it's a kind of little sanctuary, we can hide there, no one will bother us and we can wait it out without risking lack of food or water. Please Cana, they don't deserve you dying for you."

Oh. Oh oh. He almost had her. She almost believed him, she was almost going to give in this time. But this? No way. Without even thinking her hand flew up and she slapped him. Both stayed still in silence, the tension suddenly so strong it seemed palpable. She heard something rummage upstairs, Mélu had probably heard the sound of the slap. Cana almost couldn't believe she had done it, but before she could think of it, words started spewing out of her mouth like poison.

"How dare you? So in your head they all deserve to die? The baker who helped us getting this building? The children playing in the streets? The elderly, the infants, they all deserve to die anyway? If they leave before us it doesn't matter, because we would still be there, that's what you think? Of course there are bad people out there, I won't mind them getting sick, but what about the innocents? How many lives are going to be lost here? And you'd rather leave and do absolutely nothing? You don't sound heartless, you fucking are Asra! What if Nadia get sick? God what if Muriel get sick as well, huh? Are they lives you're ready to let be lost just to keep three of us alive? Heartless, cruel, but you know what I think you are? I think you're a fucking coward. So go hide in your hole, come back in a few months when this is safer for your cowardly ass to set foot back into Vesuvia. I'm staying, I'm going to help these people, even if I die trying. Take Mélu if she wants, but please, don't ever try to use me as an excuse to hide from something, never again."

Without a word more, Cana left the shop, slamming the door behind her. She wandered in the city for the rest of the day, she didn't want to go back home. The truth was, she was scared. Of course she was, there was a pandemic going on, and for all she knew she would be the next corpse littering the pavement, just like Asra said. But she wanted to put up a fight, for those who deserved it. Walking back to the shop, she started regretting yelling at Asra, telling him he was a coward. She had been so angry at that moment she went overboard.  
When she pushed the door she found it unlocked, which was weird. Entering into her so familiar workplace, she found a lot of the ingredients and some potions had disappeared. She immediately thought they had been robbed, but she could also hear the familiar pacing of Mélusine, still upstairs. She climbed the steps and found the ginger girl pouting next to the stove, whispering angrily at the salamander that helped them produce fire. The girl looked up and her pout grew only stronger

"Asra left"


	4. 'You were gone'

Cana squeezed her eyes with a grunt. Where was she? She could feel silky grass under her palms and feet, wasn't she at the Lazareth just moments ago? If she was out she'd better hurry, she had to go and tell Mélusine she was fine, poor girl was probably terrified because she had disappeared so suddenly a few days ago! Opening up her eyes, above her was a radiant blue sky, only bothered by a few dim passing clouds, that looked nothing like the sky of Vesuvia she was used to.

She sat up and looked around. At her left were mountains with snowy tops, at her right a forest was starting; in front of her, in the far distance, she could see the lively glimmers of a sea or a lake. Between all three was the field she stood in, and it seemed endless, as if she could walk all she wanted, she could never reach neither the mountains nor the sea. A warm wind was lightly blowing, graciously bending the grass along its way; a few birds crossed the sky. This place was... so peaceful, and familiar, but she had never seen this before, had she? Maybe in dreams? Oh, maybe she was dreaming right now? That would explain the weird topography of the land surrounding her.

_"Gazing upon the scenery? We haven't been here in a while, I get it."_

The young woman blenched and immediately got on her feet, turning around to face whoever had just talked. The voice was surreal, not human at all, it was like a faint echo was following. When she set her eyes on whatever had talked, they opened wide. She had no idea what this creature was, she had never seen such a thing, it clearly wasn't an arcana since only the major could talk, and she knew them all; and she had never encountered real life creatures such as this.

It was human shaped, but its skin was of a pale yellow, so were its eyes, the only discernable feature on what she guessed was its face; they were like two pieces of smooth topaz that had been glued from the inside, like a mask. It wore warm grey clothes, a top with short sleeves that stopped just under his chest, letting its belly viewable; like a human it had a bellybutton. It had pants, but it was sitting cross legged and a piece of yellow cloth was hanging from his waist and hiding the end of its legs. It had a weird sort of hat that engulfed the top of its head, a lot like what Valdemart themselves usually had on. Pieces of golden jewelry added a finishing touch, a collar, two wristlets, and golden beads on its head and waist. The creature was playing with golden strings, braiding them or separating them without any clear patterns. Cana couldn't help but be ill at ease by the web-like patterns on its skin, they seemed to be glowing...

The creature eyed her up and down, and to her horror the eye twisted, getting slightly curved. It seemed amused. Its hands never stopped moving against the strings even as it talked.

_"You don't remember me do you? Well, no matter, it's been a while... My name is Déluge, don't worry we're good friends, I won't hurt you."_

  
"Where are we? Why am I here? And...what are you..."  
 _"Aah, questions, so many questions. Justified, the lot of them, but you always ask so many, and always the same at that... if you could remember my answers even if just when you come here, that would be great... But anyway."_

They vaguely gestured around them

_"This is Eden, your birth land, that is where Mother created you, me, as well as a bunch of other people and creatures even weirder then me. Trust me if you think I'm something wait until you see Glouton." They let out a laugh. "Real funny buddy, but oh God is he atrocious... Why are you here, hm...? That is something we don't really know, sometimes when you sleep you're able to come here, not physically at least. It's probably because of how tightly you all are connected to this place. You're a pretty new one so I guess you still have a lot of bonds left here. As to what I am..."_

They stopped and looked right at her, their eyes were so dull she couldn't tell where they were looking exactly, but she felt as if they pierced her. They seemed...pained.

_"Ah I see; you don't believe anything I'm saying are you? I guess it's normal if you don't remember what you were...what you are. If it's like any other time, you won't remember this anyway, so I'm not going to explain it all, you'll remember by yourself eventually."_

The sky suddenly turned dark, everything gone. But just as fast, the light came back, in the form of stars and two enormous moons. Looking around she could see the lights of flames in the far off distance. People were living there.

_"Night time comes around pretty unexpectedly, as usual. Everything here is responding to the whims of Mother. I guess this is goodbye, for a long while this time."_

Déluge stood up and walked toward her, gently caressing her hair with smiling eyes. They were taller than she was. They put their forehead against hers.

_"It's going to be tough, you're going to regret everything. And I won't be there to help you in the beginning. But I know you'll find me sooner or later, and when that happens, we'll set off to a happy ending with everyone you love. Just hang in there okay?"_

As they took a step back, Cana felt like everything around her was turning to dust

"Wait! How do I find you?!"

Her feet suddenly fell through the grass, and everything was turning in a deep shade of black. She couldn't feel anything, every ounce of peace she felt while there had gone in an instant, only replaced by a cold void and fear. Their voice ringed in her ears

_"I don't know; you'll have to find that out as well."_

And then she fell and fell and fell...

She woke up on a beach, the sound of waves gently crashing on the sandy floor was soothing; wait a second, what were "waves"? And she was so cold, she hugged herself but nothing stopped her shivering. She heard screams from far away, during the time it took her to raise her head and look in that direction, the person who had screamed was already next to her, kneeling in the damp sand. She could only see white hair as whoever that was hugged her tightly; her shivers eased a bit, this person felt warm. They uttered something, a sound she recognized, but didn't exactly understood.

"You were gone."


	5. 'I keep seing you'

She kept seeing her, every time too late to get a good view of her, but she was there. Flashes of orange hair disappearing around a corner, quick steps leaving down a corridor as she approached, blue eyes sneaking a peek between curtains… she was everywhere, and yet Cana never managed to caught her in time. Of course she knew who it was, countess Nadia had informed her. The woman’s name was Portia, and she was her most trusted servant amongst everyone in the Palace. She should have met her on her first day here, but the red haired girl had been sick that day and so it never came.

Pacing along the seemingly endless corridors leading to her room, Cana could only wonder about this mysterious girl. How come she had not met her yet, it was past beyond just bad luck, it was as if she was being avoided, but why? She had no memory of ever being rude to her, she never had the damn occasion to be, so why? And it wasn’t like she hadn’t try already, barging in when she though she heard her voice or even going to her cottage when she was supposed to be on breaks; nothing worked she always escaped her. With a grunt she realized that maybe her behavior was not exactly what you would call inviting, she was practically hunting her down instead of going after Devorak, which was what she had been hired to do.

Cana reached her room fairly fast, lost in her thoughts as she was. She entered to find it empty, beside what she brought in with her. She sighed, she wasn’t used to being alone anymore. She wished Mélusine was with her right now, but two days ago she had left with Muriel –no matter how hard she tried to push it away she couldn’t let go of the feeling she knew him, very well-, and a woman named Morga, Lucio’s mother apparently. Memory of the elder brought back with it the same chill as seeing her in person; she had been so cold and harsh toward her, something about the spider medallion she had; Morga didn’t elaborate enough for her to understand where the anger was coming from. Shaking her head, she closed the door behind her and let herself plop down on her bed. Nadia really didn’t understand her when she said she didn’t need anything fancy, the covers were so silky she couldn’t guess what extremely expensive material was. The young woman buried her head into a pillow, wondering about what she could do tomorrow, looking through the doctor’s desk had proven almost useless, and what she had wasn’t helping her even a little bit. She was stuck and she hated it.

That’s when she started to hear a weird sound, a kind of low rumbling, like a purr. Cana turned her head toward the noise, expecting to see her cat familiar Coony, but instead was greeted by a white and brown cat sleeping soundly in a bundle of covers, purring so hard you would have thought it was getting the best ear scratches in the world. Next to the cat was hers, Coony was awake and looked at Cana with his big yellow eyes, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The magician gently put a finger on his paw and tapped twice; she got a lick as a greeting.

“Made a friend huh?”

Her only response was another loud purr from her familiar, unlike Faust, Coony and Batty –Mélusine’s familiar- still hadn’t started to speak to them; it wasn’t that surprising, they only had found them two years ago, in her case at least, whereas Asra had known Faust since they were kids. She wished she could understand what was going through Coony’s mind sometimes though.

The unknown cat much of a bother to her, but maybe someone in the castle was looking for it and was worried about them. She looked at the two cats sleeping on each other as if they had been friends for ever, they were a purring mess and she could only smile at it: it was so cute. Just as she was about to consider herself too tired to actually deal with it until the next morning, she heard precipitated footsteps outside of her door and someone whisper-screaming for someone. Peppi? The cream cat immediately raised its head and let out what Cana could only describe as a “peep”. It jumped down the bed and went toward the door, scratching at it to try and get out. With a grunt the woman got on her feet, going to open the door for the kitty. The moment she opened it she was met with the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen, and a mess of red hair kept in line by mere force of will.

Cana’s breath was taken away and her heart missed a few bits, it was like everything else other than the other woman in front of her had stopped existing. She just couldn’t take her eyes off of her, she got that this was Portia, she just hadn’t grasped just how beautiful she would be. Her cheeks must have been a blushing mess, but at least so were the red haired girl’s. The cat meowed at their feet and the magic was over, she was suddenly aware of all the noises in this wing of the palace. Portia also seemed to snap out of it, kneeling down to catch the cat in her arms

“Peppi! Where were you I was so worried! Don’t disappear like that okay?”  
“I think she made friend with my cat…they were sleeping together on the bed…”  
“O-oh is that so…”

They both were blushing absurdly red, not even daring to look at each other directly. God this was awkward, she felt like a child who couldn’t handle her emotions. Cana looked at her, wondering if it’ll felt soft to tangle her finger in her hair to braid them… she coughed off the idea, cleared her throat and tried something

“So you’re Portia I’m guessing; I keep seeing you around but I never caught you soon enough to have a chat.”  
“Oh yeah I keep running around to help milady do all the work. I huh… I wanted to talk to you about something actually…”  
“Of course, what is it? Oh, maybe you want to come in? my bed is comfier than standing in the doorway.”

The ginger blushed even redder. Oh right, that sounded a bit weird didn’t it? She nodded anyway and Cana moved to let her in. Peppi was more than happy to go back on the bed to cuddle with Coony again. They both sat and started to talk. Portia had been worried about whose side Cana was on, and once she was assured she was on Nadia’s and was also convinced that something was off with the whole case concerning Julian, she seemed way more light hearted. The both of them kept talking until late at night, when Portia had to go back to her cottage.

The magician was happy, they got along very well very fast. Her heart was still pounding and it had twisted when the servant had left. She couldn’t sleep, even with all lights off and Coony nestled against her. She kept thinking about her, about her eyes, her smile, her freckles, how soft her hairs looked, how their fingers brushed a few times, how sweet her lips had looked. With a whine she hid her face in a pillow once again, hiding her beetroot-red face from the world.

Fuck. She was in love wasn’t she?


	6. 'don't tell him'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know how to write fight scenes please don't hurt me

It was just another normal day. Or as normal as they could be in this reality. It was one of those, where Cana and Lucio were aware enough to spend it not killing each other. With her big brother not trying to come back to life at all, she had the reality time span to herself. These tended to be longer, since than considering there was no story advancement (the goal was often to defeat Lucio at the mascarade) the days just kept coming by and they could relax before being thrown into another without any warning. This reality could be considered an AU of, well, an AU. After all, Mélusine was present; she always liked to have her around, she missed her in realities where she was alone.  
This time she decided to do something she hadn’t tried before: befriending the courtiers. If she had almost immediately given up toward Valerius who kept being a bitch with her, the magician was making progress with the others, surprisingly. Volta and Vlastomil were the easiest, out of the group they were the two with the less violent tendencies. The tiny woman just needed food and he…just needed some attention for he and his worms. As interesting as it was, she’d rather fight to the death with Muriel than spend another afternoon in his “verrarium”.

Speaking of fighting to the death, right now she was heading off to the coliseum. Befriending the last two wasn’t easy, but she had already got them to at least be on good terms with her. Valdemar was happy as long as they were able to inspect her injuries or test a few non-lethal things on her. Vulgora… well they just wanted to fight, so she asked them if they could teach her a few moves and stuff. It was the first time she had saw them make a nice smile, one not filled with death threats and that resembled death smiling at you itself. To be fair everyone was scared of the Pontifex, so it must have felt nice, even just a little, to have someone to actually ask to spare with them. Cana doubted that just sparing was enough to calm down their bloodlust but at least they could blow off some steam on something else than the furniture, or the palace’s servants in the worst of cases.

For the past month –god it had already been a month- the both of them would meet in the coliseum early in the morning to exchange a few spares. She would always end up on the ground with light cut and bruises, but she was starting to throw Vulgora off their feet a bit more often as well. Valdemar would sometime come as well but most of the time just appeared out of nowhere after the session had ended, taking great interest in patching Cana up. You could almost mistake this for kindness, but she knew they were keeping records of every scratch she had and noted her recovery abilities. An easy way for them to collect data. The doctor didn’t seem to be there today however. When she walked under the gigantic arches of the coliseum’s entrance she noticed it was totally empty, except for Vulgora already jumping on their feet, expectant. Since the red market was just under them and they made lots of noises when fighting –she swore the ground would shake every time she would get suplex-ed- sometime people would leave their forbidden shopping to take a look at who was suicidal enough to spare with the most violent of the courtiers. Portia would come as well if she had a day off, she’d cheer on her even though she didn’t stand a chance; but they would go back to her cottage afterward and it was always nice, she was so busy at the palace, especially with Nadia holding the mascarade soon.

“Hoi Cana!” The pontifex smiled and waved when they saw her coming closer. “Coming to get your ass handed once again?”  
“Oh please don’t even try to sound bothered.”

They snorted and that gave her a smile. As crazily violent as they were, they were not that bad to have around when they liked you. The magician even noticed they screamed less when she was around. She brought back her braid around in her headband as to make it so that it couldn’t be caught easily during combat: long hair were a weak point and she had learned that the hard way. Vulgora never went easy on her.

“So how are we sparing today, got any new moves to teach me?”  
“Actually I thought maybe we could have a real fight today. You’ve learned a lot already; I want to see if you can actually use anything against me.”

A real fight? That wasn’t very good, she wanted to live a bit more.

“Alright I guess, but no injury that would make me end up in Valdemar’s donjon, I’d probably never get out.”  
“Ah ah, yeah, no worries. The point is to see if my little apprentice learned something, not to kill her”

Cana couldn’t shrug off the little pride she heard in their voice. Up until recently she had been Asra’s apprentice in the eyes of everyone, but getting back her memories brought back all her power as well and she was good enough that Valerius himself wouldn’t call her that anymore. For some reason Vulgora was more than happy to take back that title toward them. If she was to use magic she would probably win, but here she was trying to get better at physical combat. She eyed the pontifex’s gloves, those pointy ends were not reassuring at all. God she hoped she could survive and run away from Valdemar after this.

“Ready?” Their yellow eyes were beaming; with what she couldn’t tell.

She took a fighting stance and nodded. In just a moment they were on her, already swinging a fist at her ribcage. ‘We don’t fight for real my ass; they’re trying to break my bones!’ but was it even willingly? As her enemy’s fighting style was always the same, she preferred to try and see if she could lower their stamina just a bit, she could dodge without trouble so she took her time to try and analyze them. That did not seem to please Vulgora who punched harder than needed toward her face. She ducked barely, feeling the cold of the metal as she stepped to the side. Were they angry? Better not try and test their patience then. Cana got into their space as soon as she saw an opening, trying to land a fist in their face. From precedent realities she knew the rest of their body couldn’t exactly be harmed, they were made out of red beetles. But they didn’t know that she knew. She missed, miserably, and in a swift motion the courtier kicked her legs and she was almost on the ground. They loved to put her down for some reason. Shoulders on the sand would count as a defeat, so she caught herself back and pushed on her hands to get away and back up. Her opponent let out a grunt of appreciation, and she was just back on her feet was they were already charging at her like a bull.

She tried a kick, her legs were stronger, but they dodged. They were so fast sometimes it seemed inhuman. Oh yeah right. Demons. Cana took the charge in full, not being able to get out of the way. The air was pushed out of her lungs and she couldn’t breathe for a second. She weakly punched toward Vulgora, and almost got them, they were very close after all. But by reflex, they grabbed her arm. Hard. Cana screamed as pain shot up her limb, a terrible cracking sound echoing on the stone walls of the coliseum. The pontifex immediately let go and stood there awkwardly as the girl knelled in the sand, holding her broken arm: the bone was shattered and blood didn’t stop coming out. She saw them pacing back and forth, not knowing what to do, they clearly hadn’t anticipated that she’d get hurt that bad.

Where they panicking? She almost wanted to tell them she was fine, but her vision was blurry because of the pain that wouldn’t stop shooting up her arm. She didn’t want to end in the doctor’s lair in that state, that was the last thing she wanted. She didn’t she didn’t, she didn’t she didn’t she didn’t she didn’t. _She. Did. Not._

Vulgora’s endless worried blabbering stopped abruptly and she felt something cold going down her arm. Her vision cleared and the pain soothed itself. There was a white light gently enveloping her wounds, and slowly, it healed. The courtier themselves just stared at the phenomenon. Cana had no idea what was going on, she didn’t know any spells that could have helped her do this, she could heal others but not herself. In just a few moments the wound was cleaned and no trace could be seen, not even a scar. They both looked at each other, baffled.

“That… was super cool. How did you do it?”  
“I don’t think I did it, it kind of just…happened?”

They did not have time to elaborate on that, behind them they heard footsteps. Turning around, she saw Valdemar approaching them, hands clasped in front of them in that unnerving manner. Cana felt cold sweat run down her spine and turned back at Vulgora, grabbing their arm

“Don’t tell him. What just happened, don’t mention it.”

They just nodded, probably not because they sympathized with her, more likely it was because they didn’t want their sparring partner to disappear suddenly. Valdemar approached them and almost seemed startled.

“No wounds this time? Not even a scratch visible!”  
“Yeah, she’s getting better, almost landed a blow too.”

So they decided to cover for her, thanks to whatever had made this possible. She got back on her feet and dusted her clothes off, her arm was sore but functioning. The two courtiers spoke between themselves, it was crazy, she thought, how they managed to somehow get along despite being so different from each other. Probably was because they all were after Lucio’s soul. But she was not supposed to know that. Before she knew it Valdemar’s face was inches away from hers, their eyes just piercing through her. Even if they were frightening, she really liked their eyes, the red was a nice color. She wouldn’t say it to them thought, who knew how they would react. The doctor tilted their head to the side

“Are you sure you really have no injuries? I find it unlikely with how violent our dear friend Vulgora tends to be. What about the old ones, did they also heal overnight?”  
“Actually…” she decided to lie, why not after all. “Mélu tried a new potion on me, it happened to heal them, which was a miracle considering half of what she does ends up being extremely lethal poison… I could ask her if she remembers what she did with it if you want?”

She saw their eye twitch, victory! Mentioning or involving Mélusine was one of the ways to get them to give up fairly quickly. They did not like her, probably because of how much of a mess she made of their donjon the first and only time she was allowed in there.

“No, whatever. As long as my favorite subject is well I’ll pass on knowing exactly how. Especially if I have to see ginger hair around.”  
“You know I’m starting to think that the two of you actually care about me, going to make sure I’m fine like that all the time.”

She had planned for this to be a joke but when neither of them replied at all she got a bit redder, on the tip of her ears especially. The sun was now shinning on half of the coliseum, time to go for her so. She didn’t had anything with her so she started to walk toward the arch, awkwardly saying her goodbyes to the two courtiers.

“See you guys tomorrow!”

They just nodded and watched her leave. Once out of view she actually ran back to the shop, her face totally flushed. Up until now she had seen what she thought was every route, they were six, Portia, Asra, Muriel, Nadia, Julian and –eurk- Lucio. Could there also be some for the courtiers? She hadn’t even considered this possibility. The idea of romancing Valdemar or Volta was surreal, but at the same time maybe a bit appealing; for Vulgora as well even. Vlastomil was…never going to be anything more than a friend. But the other free? She bites her thumb. That’d be an experience. She reached the shop, out of breath, she hadn’t even noticed she had ran all the way back. Asra greeted her at the door, and she just gave him a friendly hi before going to her room. Petting Coony on her bed she started to think about the best ways to unlock those routes for Valdemar and the others. That would be a lot of fun. Hopefuly…


	7. 'i need to keep you warm'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucio saves his sister because for once he's not the one responsible for the shitstorm happening.

“Come on Darla, keep running !!”

The poor girl was trying her best, but compare to him her legs were so tiny, and the snow did not help at all. She was out of breath, her lungs hurt because of the cold hair coming in and out too fast. With their mom’s training you’d think she would have gotten better, but apparently it hadn’t been enough. If her big brother hadn’t take her hand in his, she would probably already be on the ground, eaten by what was after them. Montag was almost dragging her along at this point. He was scared. He was right to be. And it was all her fault.

A few hours ago Morga had send them to hunt, they had tracked down a few boars but everyone else was too busy trying to get camp up. Since Montag was the son of the leader, it was best for him to go, would make people respect him if he could kill anything worthwhile she had said. Darla went with him to get experience, she had only hunt tiny animals up until now, a boar would be a challenge. And so they went, her brother grumbling and whining like he always did when he was asked something. She took pride in being able to make him smile in those moments. She had joined their tribe a year ago, and Morga slid to her one day that the man was working harder now that he had someone to impress. He was still whiny though.

They had passed nearly two hours tracking the boars down themselves, which lead them to a cave. Right there Montag had had a bad feeling, something felt off he said. But Darla was not feeling anything weird, the beasts were hiding inside the cave because of the cold, that was all. She did not listen to him when he said they’d better wait before trying to get inside. ‘Mom won’t like us returning empty handed because you had a bad feeling’. She knew she had struck a sensitive point, now she regretted it. The both of them ventured into the cave, her brother with his unsheathed sword, an arm in front of her just in case. She never could tell if he actually cared to protect her or was just putting on a show of some sort. She stayed behind. They reached a central area, and she felt his blood freeze in his veins. Peering over him, she got it immediately.

Skeletons of wild animals were garnishing the ground, probably the boars that they had been following, but there were so many. Something was inside this cave, and it was dangerous. Montag took her hand in his and murmured ‘no sound, we’re leaving’. She nodded and was ready to turn around when she spotted human bones, one of the skulls was looking right at her, missing his lower jaw it looked like it was smiling, laughing like it knew there was no escape for them. She shivered and felt his hand tugging lightly, urging her to start moving. Everything would be okay, they just had to leave the cave in silence and then they would get back to camp and tell everyone and they could make sure that whatever was inside would not hurt anyone.

Gravel fell in front of her, hitting her hand. It was just some pebbles, but she couldn’t help but look up. Thanks to any divinities that she did or they would have never gotten out of there. On the ceiling was the most terrifying thing she had seen: it was like a skeletal wyvern, claws so big and teeth so sharp, bones showing through rotting skin and becoming deadly spikes; like the thing that had attacked her home village. Its red glowing eyes looked down at her and it opened its mouth, ready to get down and bite them to pieces. ‘UP!’ she screamed, and they started running. Darla wasn’t sure if he had seen it, he would look behind him to try and catch glimpses, but he trusted her enough to drag her in a sprint out of the cave immediately. The monster followed them, screaming so loudly the walls trembled. The managed to get out, that was the easy part. At first they ran the way they had came, but Montag decided to change and made an arch to avoid the monster and go to the left. Why did he do that? They were going away from safety! The wyvern kept following them, its terrifying screams still so clear and loud between the trees.

That’s what lead them to this point, Darla out of breath and Montag doing his best to keep running while dragging a 7-year-old away from a monster that was dead set on eating them. It was coming closer, she could hear its tail whipping against trees, snow falling in patches in not the tree itself. They were ankle deep into it, and she couldn’t run anymore, her lungs were burning, her whole body ached, she would have told Montag to leave her behind if she could muster the energy to speak. She was such a burden; she could see her brother’s breath getting even more erratic as he had to make sure she was following. She did her best, forcing her legs to move just a bit more, but she was close to not being able to move at all. The blond let out a victory cry and she noticed that the trees where getting fewer, where they this close to the end of the forest? No that wasn’t it, there were tress again on the other side. Pushing himself forward for a last sprint, he held her up half into his arms, grabbing her clothes to make sure her hand didn’t slip. It was a frozen lake, why was he so happy to see it.

He started to run over it, barely slipping on the very thick ice, even though she was bringing imbalance. For some reason she remembered before she was called Morgasdottir, when she was living with her real parents, they had tried to teach her how to walk on ice like that. The wyvern tried to follow them, its claws digging in the ice. She shot a look back at it, it was uneasy on the slippery surface, they could distance it like that! She hoped, until it grew angry and started running across the lake to get to them. Montag was still running, they almost where close to the over side. Not fast enough. It all happened very fast. The ice gave up under the weight of the beast, and it was cracking stupidly fast toward them as it tried to get back on solid land: it was too heavy, it was drowning. While it trashed around like crazy, it sent pieces of ice flying around, and one hit her brother in the back, sending him down almost a meter away. She found herself on the ice, she had recovered a bit of breath and used it to force herself on her feet, the wyvern was still screaming behind her, but she was worried about her brother: he wasn’t moving. She managed a few steps before the ice under her gave up as well. In a fraction of second her world from light and blue to extremely dark and deadly cold.

The cold was what hit her first, like thousands of spikes burrowing themselves into her skin through her clothes. She wanted to scream, no sound came out, only bubbles. It was so dark under the surface; she couldn’t see anything. Every sound was muffled and she couldn’t say from where it came from. Even here she could hear the wyvern roaring for its life. She did her best not to fall too deep, she needed to try and get back up, Montag would come for her she knew it, he wouldn’t let her behind. She paddled and managed to reach air again. It was almost worse. Her poor lungs screamed mercy and her head felt like it was entirely made out of ice. She felt so numb. Her brain didn’t register anything around her, only one though raced through her dizzy mind: she needed to get out. She tried to get a grip on some pieces of ice but it was so slippery and her nails didn’t manage to take hold of the smooth surface, especially now that she was wet. She almost succeeded in lifting herself up but to her utmost terror, something gripped her leg, hard. She was pulled under water again, weakly trying to kick what was holding her. It was difficult, she couldn’t discern much, she couldn’t see the bottom. But she saw it: a hand, black as coal, or as something rotten, gripping the fabric of her pant. She felt tugs and tugs, and saw even more hands grabbing her, on her boots, legs, one even went for her arm. She was terrified.

Darla tried to shake herself free, to no avail. The bodiless hands wouldn’t let go, and they started dragging her down into the abyss. She couldn’t do anything, she was cold everything hurt, her ears were rigging hard and her had felt like it was going to explode. She moved her arm and legs as she could, the weight of the water suddenly becoming so much harder to handle. Wouldn’t it be better if she just gave up? She was going to die of cold anyway, there was no way she could survive after being soaked like this. She was tired.

At this point she felt another hand, gripping the collar of her shirt, gripping hard and she was holstered out of the water once again. She coughed up and God how can it hurt even worse than before? She could feel someone dragging her over the ice and then the feeling of hard dirt came to her face. She was barely conscious, but she rose her eyes. It was Montag, he looked okay, even if his left arm couldn’t stop shaking. She was shaking herself, she was so cold, it was like she almost couldn’t feel it anymore because it was all that she could feel, cold. He shook her up

“Hey hey, don’t you fucking dare pass out!”

He took off his cape and tuck her in, making sure she was entirely covered before running his arms up and down, trying to warm her up. She kept coughing and shaking, he was panicking.

“I need to get you warm. Listen, you’re going to want to go to sleep, but I can’t let you do that, okay? Just stay with me, stay with me!”

She did her best to nod. Her brother was right; she was so tired. Why did he wanted her to stay awake? It would be so much better if she could just sleep and let him deal with it. But he knew better, so she was going to try. Montag scooped her up in his arms, holding her close to him, he was gripping too tight but she didn’t care: he was warm. He tried running but he too was too worn out to do that while she was in his arms. The blond restrained himself to quick walking. He kept repeating to her not to fall asleep, but it was so hard. Her mind was fuzzy, everything seemed surreal. Darla could swear she remembered him kissing her forehead, telling her she was doing great; in one instance she almost fell asleep and he pulled on her hair so hard she started to cry. He apologized but at least it woke her up a little, even if the cold tried to claim her soon after. With time she started to get a bit warmer, thanks to her brother’s cape. Morga would always taunt him for having something so useless, but right now it was saving her life. She would puff on her fingers, she was scared of frostbite, maybe it was too late already? With vivid details she could remember old Olly, a woman in her village that had lost half her fingers to frostbite. Somehow, Montag made it to the camp without any of them freezing to death. He even managed to explain what had happened before passing out on the spot. He must have been just as exhausted, and his left arm looked very blue. 

Darla didn’t remember much from between that and when she woke up with Morga next to her. Her mother scolded her, telling how reckless they had been. The little girl asked about Montag. The elder looked at her with surprise but let out a sigh.

“He’s fine, way better than you. His left arm will be weakened forever I think, but the two of you are alive so I guess it’s what counts. Now you rest.”

The child nodded and turned around under the covers and tried to sleep, she could now, she was safe. She felt safe. She smiled thinking she would be able to tell that she had survived a wyvern when she was just seven. With the help of her big brother of course.


	8. 'she figured it out'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a sad prompt but i wrote it while listening to sad music soooo…

It was a normal evening in the city of Vesuvia, the sun was just set and the stars were already showing up, one after the other, in the beautiful purple sky. Mazelinka was brewing something, probably soup with a few touches of magic like she did them; in the next room Julian was working on some of his endless paperwork, he had been hiding here for the past three days. Everything was peaceful. Until Cana just busted through the window and crashed into the living room face first.  
A moment of silence as the two inhabitant realized what happened. The young woman got back on her feet, and started sobbing as soon as the elderly woman came into view.

“Mazyyy, she cried out. She figured it out!! What do I do??”

The old pirate took a second to understand what was going on. There was one thing that could put the usually so contained magician in such a state, that could involve a girl figuring out something. Portia had discovered that Cana had a crush on her. She sighed and let her brew alone to go and bring the girl to a chair. Her sobbing didn’t stop at all, which was slightly worrying.

“Was it that bad?”

The girl shook her head and managed to stop sobbing to speak a little.

“We didn’t even talk about it. I… I left before we could.”  
“So what happened”  
“We were at the palace, and the both of use were talking like we usually do before she has to leave. And out of the blue she just… she just said ‘I know you’ve got a crush on me, it’s adorable’. But like, she didn’t elaborate at all, she just went on her merry way and so I don’t have any idea how she feels about it. It probably doesn’t bother her, but… but I don’t think she returns my feelings, and I’m scared to ask because the answer frightens me more than not knowing…”

They were cut by Julian pulling back the curtain in a very dramatic manner

“You have a crush on my SISTER??”

The bewildered look on his face was enough to stop Cana’s sobbing and turning them into laughter. She needed to blow off some stress, laughing was a good alternative. The man looked almost outraged, and she could not, not see the resemblance with her own brother. She though Lucio would probably have reacted the exact same way if it was Portia who had run to Nadia to cry about this and he was in the room. Julian went and sat next to her, opposite to Mazelinka, and pat her back. The three stayed silent for a moment, before the magician started to talk again

“I know I should handle this like an adult. Confront her and asks if she feels the same, instead of, well, running to you and cry about it. But I can’t bring myself to, and I don’t want to face her, not today, not tomorrow, not ever. I feel like I’ll never be ready to know her answer. And at the same time I feel it’s not fair because that means I don’t take her feelings into consideration… I just really don’t know what to do, or if I even want to do anything. I could let it all like it already is and just pretend nothing has to change but… again I feel it’s not fair…”

They all fell silent again, Julian seemed very uncomfortable, talking about how to deal with his best friend having a crush on his little sister was not on the list of things he was good at. But this list was very short to begin with so no surprises here. But he had dealt with crushes before, he could try at least.

“You know, I think you should ask her. I can’t pride myself in knowing what goes through my sisters’ mind anymore, but I’m sure of one thing: she won’t let you down no matter what. I… it can be hard to be rejected, but in the end it’s something that happens and you can never be prepared for it, not entirely. I know my own experience won’t be similar to yours, but if she says no, well it doesn’t mean you have to leave it all behind, you can still love her, and she’ll love you in her own way. Then, you can keep going or move on. It’s never easy but… I know you can make it.”

She looked up at her friend and smile, as always he was focusing on the negatives ‘what ifs’, but he was trying his best. She loved Julian for that, he was stuck in a lot of bad habits, but he always tried. Mazelinka scoffed 

“Or, you know, she’ll say yes and the two of you can actually date.”

Cana let out a stiff laugh. They were right. No matter she wished for it things had to move on, for the best or not. Her luck was mixed from the beginning, but one could always hope right. She sighed and straightened her back. Not like she had a lot of choices anyway. She feared that Portia would take away the intimacy they shared up until now, the secrets whispered behind closed doors, their excursions in the Palace, telling stories of the past to each other. All the laughs and smile, she feared they would all be gone once she confirmed she felt a certain way toward her. That they would grow cold. Like Asra and Julian did, that’s what she was scared of the most. But if that was what had to be, then it’ll have to happen.

“I’ll ask her. It can’t be avoided anyway…”

The old pirate let out an appreciative grunt and got up to check on her soup.

“You can save that up for tomorrow morning. You can stay here for the night. Dinner’s ready.”

Cana smiled and nodded. You didn’t simply say no to Mazelinka’s brew.


	9. 'you were too late'

Cana was running like the devil was on her heels. Maybe he was, but what concerned her was not what could be chasing her, but what she was running toward. After living with someone as clumsy and dangerous for themselves as Mélusine, she had developed some kind of sixth sense that warned her when the younger woman was in danger. It had proven useful so many times she and Asra had stopped keeping track. It would ring from the girl being close to something sharp or anytime something potentially bad was roaming around. Today the feeling pushed her from her lovely morning with Portia to run into the palace. She had no clear view of what was possibly able to hurt her friend here, but the instinct had never been wrong.

The magician couldn’t pinpoint exactly where she was supposed to go and she started to panic a bit more: she would not forgive herself if anything happened to the ginger. She kept running, trying to focus on the feeling. It was somewhat similar to listening to the cards, they were no clear words nor indication, but she could interpret them. As of now, she could sense it was related to sharp stuff –why was it always sharp, cutting, dangerous stuff or fire? Why never anything else- as well as external danger, like someone wanted to hurt her. But who could want to hurt Mélusine? Thinking this exact though she stumbled upon Consul Valerius, almost running into him. She saw shock in his eyes at the state she was in: scared, worried, out of breath. Before he could process she asked him

"Have you seen Mélusine?”

“Where is Valdemar.”  
“In his ‘office’ as far as I’m aware, the Consul answered this time. Why? What’s happening with them?”  
“I don’t know but I have a very bad feeling about this”

The magician ran off again, this time toward the abandoned menagerie gallery her brother had before, it was still unused but she knew there was a secret passage leading to Valdemar’s hideout. She quickly went under the paintings of all the albino animals, following the corridor until a blank wall. Flashes of a past reality came to her, one where it was only her, doing her brother’s route; that was when they started developing self-awareness, modifying the plot as to keep it platonic. Without much hesitation she faced the wall and walked forward, sensing a tingle of panic when she was about to hit it. But she went through like she had guessed she could. Who knew, between realities little details like that tended to change unexpectedly.

She emerged in front of a set of old stone stairs, leading down. The feeling linking her to Mélusine was stronger here, she definitely was inside the donjon. She clutched her pouch: if it was needed, she had something to trade for her friend’s life, a diary of notes and experiences the doctor had done on her in other times, years of research she always had with her in case she was in a tough spot. She hoped, prayed even, that she didn’t have to use it as leverage. Cana went down the stairs, each one filling her up with more fear and worry, the feeling of something bad happening was so strong it was like her heart was about to explode with anguish.

When she reached the end, the red lights of the room made her even more uneasy. She didn’t dare call out, she was scared she’d get no answer. When she actually got into the donjon, her blood froze: it was in an unspeakable mess. The place was littered to speak kindly, medical material on the floor, products spilled on the ground. She took a few steps forward, glancing at the tables on which she and Lucio had been strapped once in fear; on which she had been sitting for hours as she and the demon were talking, cutting her open to take notes on her anatomy.

Her old friend was here, head lowered and hands clutched to their side, turning their back to her. Valdemar’s voice had always been chilling, bit today even more, as they uttered four words

“You were too late.”

Cana did not understand, refused to understand. She looked around franticly, searching for Mélusine. She had to be here, where else could she be? The feeling was still there, that meant she was still alive right? She had to be. Her heart started pounding even faster as the fear of having lost her friend grew inside, tying a knot in her stomach. But she was nowhere to be seen. With her acute senses she could say she had been here recently, but she couldn’t see her. The doctor turned around and looked at her right in the eyes. They looked tired, like they had given up somehow. They gestured to everything around them.

“I tried to stop her but she kept going around and touching everything. Just look at the mess she has made, and it’s like she didn’t even mean to do it at all. I just… please take her back and away from this place; she shouldn’t even had been able to find this place to begin with…”

Wait, go back with her? Cana just stopped. What did they meant? Noticing her lack of understanding they opened their mouth to say something but they were broken off by a young woman’s voice, one she knew very well.

“Valdy look at what I found, did you knew you had this many scalpels hidden in a chest with a very hard code, under those covers? I think you can thank me for finding them!”

Coming out of nowhere was Mélusine, holding a box with an open lid, the dangerous glint of metal reflecting from the red lights. She was smiling, apparently unaware of all the cuts on her body or the blood seeping out of her forehead, or of the bruises, or of any injurie she seemed to currently have at the same time. Cana started crying. She ran to her and hugged her tight.

“You are never again allowed to come down here you hear me? I thought you were in danger, I thought you were dying!”

The younger woman gave her back her hug with a huge smile, letting the precious box and its very lethal content falling on the ground to do so. She seemed a bit confused as to why her friend was crying in her arms right now. The magician needed a minute to stop sobbing. Under the silent pleas of a Valdemar near their breaking point, she took the woman out of the donjon, going the same way she had took to come here. She kept asking Mélu to promise not to get there again, but she was hardly listened to as the younger one was gazing at the animal portraits and asking her their names. Taking care of her was like taking care of a child, but just the same, no matter the level of exasperation she felt, in the end Cana was just glad her friend was alright.

They did not go back all the way to the shop but stopped at Portia’s cottage to clean the ginger up and put some bandages on the endless cuts she had now. Thankfully none were deep enough to be dangerous. After all of this the magician needed a moment to cool down, so she just laid on the bed she shared with her lover, her familiar and Peppi sleeping with her, for a good hour or so, while Mélusine promised her she was going to the shop without taking any funny turns to explore. Asra must have been worried to see her disappear like that anyway. Feeling deeply sorry for her old friend, she went back to the donjon afterward and helped them clean up. If they had not liked the girl before, now they absolutely detested and resented them. She felt she would never hear the end of it. But it was fine. At least in the end she was ‘t too late at all and everyone was fine. She could settle with that.


	10. 'i don't want your apologies! i want my (relation) back!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half a page of Cana spitting at Lucio? half a page of Cana spitting at Lucio.

For the first time in forever, they were facing each other. Of course they had encountered the other, more than once. But for the first time, Cana saw in the blonde’s eyes this astonishment, this surprise she had expected from him ten years ago, who appeared only now after she died once and was reborn different. She had rationalized at the time; the last time he had saw she was 9 and now she was 16, of course he wouldn’t recognize her immediately. But when it never came, she just guessed he had never cared enough to hope to see her again. Today she found herself wrong, as surprise let place to joy and relief; he just never managed to find out Cana was actually the little Darla he had left behind with a dead father and a broken mother. Sorrow took place in his eyes, his face falling as he realized what it meant. Because it wasn’t just Cana anymore. Cana hadn’t grown up thinking she could bring her big brother back, she hadn’t been ignored when she came to Vesuvia, she hadn’t see her friend suffer under his hands, she hadn’t died of the plague trying to find a cure because of his mistakes. No. But Darla did. And somehow this made it so much worse. She watched him, watched his face contort in despair as it downed on him just how much he had made his little sister suffer, and yet dared to act as if he wasn’t guilty of anything. Cana half enjoyed this.

“I’m so sorry…”

His voice was just as broken as his heart right now. She could tell he was sincere, for once, but it did not matter. This wasn’t nearly enough.

“You think a sorry will solve anything? How many times have you said sorry already? Why should it hold anything more than all those other times you tried to just dismiss everything by being apologetic toward your victims? You know, being sorry is great, it shows that you have remorse. And honestly? Right now I hope the remorse will eat you whole and leave you just as weakened and broken as I was when you left me. Maybe you’ll get it then, maybe you’ll stop being whinny and try to do better.”

Lucio was looking at her straight in the eyes, mouth slightly opened as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out. He was astounded, these words, he had heard them from other people. But never from his own sister. Cana had always been supportive, even as they were working together and realizing each time that he had done horrible things, she had always simply squeezed his hand and smiled at him. Because that was who Cana was: a nice and caring woman who was ready to give up so much for the people she cared for. Except it wasn’t Cana he had in front of him right now. It was Darla, and this one had been raised to be cold hearted toward people like Lucio, who only brought her pain and sadness.

Eyes were the mirror of the soul they say, in Lucio’s case they were an open book she had no problem to read. He was sorry, he was profoundly sorry and devastated for what he had done. And she loved him for that, and god she hated him for that as well. In the magical realms, where they were right now, time and space were not exactly working the same. While she spoke, her form shifted, it was like a bug, an image of her now, and one of when she was just a child, probably the last memory the count had of her, both here at the same time, until the tiny one became prominent. It must have been a nightmare for him, she thought, seeing the very person you wished to protect above all else coming back from the past to spit on you and remind you of all the times you had fucked up. But if it came from her, maybe this time he would engrave it in his brain and act on it. Her voice sounded younger, more childish, but she kept on

“You don’t understand, and it has more to do with the fact that you refuse to accept your negative effect on others rather than sheer stupidity, because even if you’re gifted in that you can’t be to this point. Or is it? I forgot I’m talking to the guy who gave up his soul like what, four times, or was it five? How many time more did you planned on keeping this up? I still can’t believe you even imagined being able to keep away from your responsibilities like that. Because that’s what you always do, run from what you need to do, you never want to be part of anything but you whine and whine to no end if we don’t do something fun! You know how I grew up? You wanna know? I grew up looking up to you. Those three years spent to call you big brother? Probably the best of my life when it comes to you. No matter how much mom called you weak or a coward I never believed it, because in my head you were so fucking cool and strong. And then I came to Vesuvia, and oh boy I came down crashing hard when that happened. The words sorry would have some meaning if you hadn’t apologized so much for nothing before. Do you think ‘sorries’ are going to get you out of trouble? That would be great wouldn’t it? A sorry and Muriel forgives you for forcing him to kill people in your name because you used his friend as leverage. A sorry and Julian forgets you shove a beetle down his throat when he was doing all he could to save you. A sorry and Nadia welcomes you back, and Asra stop rightfully hating you. A sorry and the flooded district doesn’t exist anymore, a sorry and Asra’s parents forgive you for keeping them captive all this time because mister wanted his arm to be unique. A sorry and maybe dad is alive again? Would a sorry change the fact that I died because of you? Would a sorry change anything? Of course not, but It’s like it never cross to you and you think just apologizing again and again will solve it all. What world are you leaving in? What kind of delusional mind do you have to keep this going when you’re near your forties? You have hurt so many people, I can’t think of anyone being able to keep count. But if we were to begin somewhere, you hurt me. When I was Darla, you hurt me. When I became Cana, you killed me. When I lived again, you kept hurting me, somehow. Where is he? The big brother who swore he would protect me from the world if it came down to it? The big brother who would stay up at night when I had nightmares? Where is he, what have you done to him. Because you’re not him. I can never consider you to be him.”

That’s when she broke down crying, tears rolling down her face in front of a Count unable to even utter a word after being lashed at like this. He was crying too, silently, as he looked at her. She saw his hand, the one made out of flesh, twitch at his side. He wanted to come closer and to hold her until she calmed down. He didn’t want to see her cry, not like that, not looking like what she was as a child, not when it was his fault. Even through the tears, Cana gave him a glare that made Lucio gave up immediately.

“I don’t want your half-hearted apologies; I don’t even want a genuine apology from you. I want my fucking brother back.”

She whipped out her tears with her sleeve, spitting out her next words

_“But that’s impossible because you killed him too.”_


	11. 'i told you not to do that, why didn't you listen?'

The twitching red eyes in front of her were the furthest thing from comfort right now. They were focused on one thing only: the deep gash in her arm that was pouring out blood on the table, and the string and needle at her feet. Cana had made a mess when she went down to try and patch herself up. Usually she could manage without being found out, but today for some reason the only person she wished she would not encounter had walked in. And oh boy, they didn’t like what they saw. Valdemar was pissed.

She tried to muster a smile and waved with her good arm, letting out a shaky laugh. Her friend didn’t seem to like that at all. She could hear the leather of their gloves just squeaking as they clutched their hands together, probably in an attempt not to cross the room and deck her in the face. There was this moment of silence where the magician wondered if it wouldn’t be better for her to run out of the donjon while she still could. But the doctor let out a heavy sigh and closed the gap between them in a few steps, dragging a chair on the cold stone ground next to the table she was sitting on.

“How, why and who or what.”  
“Well you see…”  
“Answers. _Now._ ”

They never were really open to chit chat but today they were even more closed than usual. She felt bad and scared to see them this pissed off because of her.

“Tried to climb out of a window, wanted to test my grip…the tree branches under said window.”

Valdemar looked the wound up and down and snarled, voice chilling

“Didn’t I told you not to try anything too bold and brash like that? I told you the drug we tested yesterday would still be in effect and you’d be numb until at least tomorrow Why didn’t you listen? You never listen anyway. Any idea how big of a scar this will leave? It’s like half your flesh stayed on that tree. Hand your arm over and _do not move_. I’ll fix up your mess, like usual.”

She didn’t bother to try and respond or protest, they would not take no as an answer. Not like they did that a single time since she had known them. She sat crisscross on the hardwood table, keeping her arm steady. Looking at it, the wound was absolutely disgusting. She averted her eyes and looked at them instead. The doctor had already put string, bandages, and a pristine looking needle as well as some disinfectant next to her poor attempt at sewing her arm. She watched them work around her wound, her nervous system had shut before she even entered the donjon so it was giving her this weird sense of outsider view, like it wasn’t her body they were trying to patch up.

Valdemar put a garotte on her upper arm to stop the blood. It had started to coagulate so the flow had been slowed down, but juts now she realized she might as well have been emptying herself of her blood without noticing. They cleaned up the exterior of the gash, and took a look inside. She watched their eyebrow twitch in annoyance. Cana refrained from making a comment, they were the expert and would definitely not be welcoming of any kind of talk right now. So, she let them do their work, which they were so good at she wondered how many people they had experienced on. Probably a lot.

She watched as their hands meticulously went and sew the flesh together in a neat and mastered pattern. They cleaned the wound once or twice more, stopping sometime as they found splinters, so small they had missed them, and taking them out. She was amazed they could do that with just the accuracy of their eyesight, she couldn’t see half of what they found. When they finished and put the last suture on the now closed wound, she let out and admirative whistle, bringing her arm up to look more closely. They snapped it back down and started to put bandages on, glaring at her for a second before finally finishing their work. They looked satisfied enough.

“Now with this don’t expect to be able to do anything that requires that arm for a while. I swear if I see you tore it back open, I _wil_ l lock you down here.”  
“Yeah, my bad… how long do you think that will take to heal? Vulgora will be so mad at me…”  
“First of all, that is your problem, you brought this upon yourself. Second, this is another thing we will take notes on. For a normal person the healing of such a wound would take months, but you go faster than normal people. So, we shall see.”

Cana nodded and looked at Valdemar with a smile

“Thanks a lot, I’d say I owe you one but by this point I probably owe you a thousand and more…”

At her surprise they let out a snicker of laughter. She could see the curve of one of those blood freezing smiles they had sometimes, that would show thanks to the eyes. They had never taken their mask off in front of her, she never really dared to ask. They picked their tools up and went to clean them up.

“You should go now, I’m sure you have other business to attend to. Come back and I’ll give you something, if the pain is too much when you can feel again. But let’s take that as a valuable lesson. Listen to what I say.”


	12. 'hey it's me...please wait! don't hang up!'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cana has a little monologue and heart to heart with her mom

Cana was sitting in front of the gently flowing water, meddling with her thumbs. Was she going to do this? She was most likely going to have a hard time, SHE would probably not be happy to see her, not after what happened. With a smirk she realized she already started to call herself ‘Cana’. That was a made-up name she had come up with on the spot when Asra had asked her. Pretty close to her own, but at the same time she felt she was another person when she used each name. she took a deep inspiration and looked down at the water. She had been putting this off for too long, she had to. Her mother deserved that after she left her alone.

The young magician focused on the water, bringing it up and stabilizing it in front of her face, like a big limpid mirror. This one was easy enough, ‘water-bending’ had come to her almost naturally. The hard part came now. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what it felt like to be near her mother’s magic: it was hard and cold, a wall meant to protect herself, but with also a warm side that rarely showed up. She concentrated on it, and tried to find it, somewhere deeper in the South. She felt nauseous and almost gave up when she finally reached it. The girl’s eyes flew open and she watched as Morga’s reflection appeared in the water. She wasn’t looking at her, but seeing her position she was near a large amount of water as well, a lake maybe. Ironic. The white-haired woman wasn’t looking at her.

“M-Mom?”

Her voice was shaky, it was taking her more energy than she thought to keep this up, but she had lots to spare. The huntress looked up, shock on her face as she heard her daughter’s voice for the first time in months. When they locked eyes through the water, the immediate reaction she had was disdain. The girl saw her move her hand to try and blur the water, not wanting to see her.

“No mama! Please wait! Please don’t…don’t hang up now…”

Morga stopped and she could see it in her eyes, this little twinkle she had every time she would call her like that, the affectionate side of her she tried to keep down because she saw it as weak. Her daughter never saw it as such, for the rare times she could have witness it at its full.

“Darla. It’s been too long already. I’m betting you haven’t found him yet? This coward must be hiding somewhere.”  
“Well actually, he isn’t. that’s why I ‘called’ you. I don’t know what to do. Up until now I had the hope that maybe I could try and bring him back you know? No matter what you said about him I still hoped he was…he was a bit like I remember him.”  
“It’s pretty clear he isn’t, you’ve always been stubborn when it came to your older brother. Montag sure let a good impression on you. On you alone. But I know you Darla, you didn’t reach out to me through magic just to ask me what to do. I’m sure you know very well what you want to do already. So why?”  
“I guess…I wanted to talk? I… I miss you a lot mama, but I don’t want to go back just yet, I think…I think I can help here you know? I’ve met this guy named Asra who’s also super good at magic, we’re planning on opening a shop here to help the people of the city. It’s very different then what I’m used to, I feel cramped between these walls, but it’s like I finally found something I enjoy doing…”

Morga listened to her daughter ramble, a small corner smile on her lips.

“So you’ve made friends?”  
“Yeah, we’re the ‘hate on Montag’ fan club of the city. This dumbass became count, can you imagine? He has no idea how to rule the city, he’s doing positively terrible let me tell you. Renamed himself Lucio and loves to parade around, throw some kind of super big party for his birthday that he calls a Mascarade. And he has his eyes on Asra, it’s kinda weird but I feel he envies him, maybe because he has a familiar? Who knows? And he uses him against his friends as well! There’s Muriel, he’s such a sweet guy, kind hearted to no end…and he forces him to serve as his executioner in the coliseum he built, he says that if he doesn’t do that, he will hurt Asra. So I spend half of my nights sneaking in and patching him up to make sure he lives another day. Oh, there’s also Julian, he’s a doctor, he’s super funny and all. And Nadia as well, she’s Montag’s wife -can you believe this idiot managed to find a wife? - she’s absurdly beautiful and she has only disdain for him, that’s hilarious. Oh and—”

Darla kept up for a good twenty minutes, telling her mother about everything that happened since she set foot into the city. Morga listened to it all with the same smile, even if she could act bothered, she still was relieved to know she was fine and still boiling up with energy.

“So, what I’m getting is that you don’t plan on going back home anytime soon?”  
“Well, no. You know me. I’m sorry I’m leaving you without a heir, but to be fair, we are so few now we can barely call ourselves a tribe. I still love you from the bottom of my heart mom.”  
“I know that, you’ve never loved someone more, maybe except Montag. It’s nice to see you live your life, even if it’s not the one I was hoping you would choose.”

The watery mirror withered and the magician almost lost contact. Her mother nodded.

“I guess this is goodbye then. I trust you to use that trick to contact me soon again?”  
“I soon as anything remotely interesting happens you can count on me. Bye.”

The white-haired woman nodded and suddenly the water was back in the pond, and she was gone. Darla sighed, it had gone surprisingly well, she had expected her to be harsher, colder, maybe angry even. Instead she sounded just fine, maybe to the point of what could be considered happy for her. She looked at the sea, deep dark blue. There were stars in the sky, it was later than she thought it would be when she started. Asra must be worried. She went to her feet and started walking, dusting some sand off her clothes. Somewhere south, her mother was doing just fine, and it was all she needed to have a good night of sleep lacking remorse.


	13. 'they gave me a new life'

She was looking over the sea, from here she could guess the shadow of the Lazareth. It used to bring a shiver down her spine at first, but she had been through the regain of her memories so many times over realities that now she didn’t feel anything. Cana was alone, it was too early for anyone to be up just yet on the docks. She liked to stand there when no one was around, it was relaxing; even since she arrived at Vesuvia the sea had be nothing the soothing for her, which was unexpected considering her precedent encounters with great amounts of water.

_“So, you’ve definitely gave up on being Darla? It’s only Cana from now on?”_

Next to her was something only her could see and hear: her very own Ego, Déluge. The weird creature was floating over the sandy ground, looking amused as the waves that crashed higher would just go through their ethereal form.

“You act like it’s the first time it happens.”  
“ _Who knows, it can always change from one reality to another. This one is good isn’t it?_ ”  
“Yes, probably the best run we’ve had in a long time. Everyone is fine and happy as can be after everything we’ve been through. Even my dumbass of a brother got his share of happiness.”  
“ _Do you want to stay on that one?_ ”  
“Of course. I don’t want to try and get it all taken away again, I’ve learned my lesson.”  
“ _Even though it’s not the original reality?_ ”

Déluge looked almost worried, like they were aware the woman would regret her decision later on. She nodded, fully aware of the choice she was making. By accepting the ultimate reality as the one she was in right now, she would stick herself as an aberration. She already was one as every other Layers were, but the status of her world putting her as the main character was negating that. The problem was, in this reality there was another main character. But she didn’t mind, what better than to spend the rest of her last reality with her dearest friend? She didn’t need the spotlight as long as everyone around her was happy.

“I would feel bad if I was to just give up this perfect reality for a reason as selfish as wanting to be the only one focused on. I’m fine with this. They gave me a new life here, in both sense of the term. I’ll live it to the fullest now that I’m sure everything will keep being fine.”

Her friend nodded. Cana watched him take his strings out, picking one out for every person around her. They all were golden, hers silver because she was special, and Mélusine’s of a very pretty emerald green. She was special too after all. With a last sigh the Creature of Fate made an experienced braid out of the strings, before adding one final knot, sealing their destiny. The strings disappeared just as fast as they appeared, out of thin air, and they set their blank eyes toward the Lazareth.

“ _The sun is rising._ ”  
“It is.”  
“ _I should go. When it’s all over, we’ll meet in Eden again. Don’t worry, you should have no reason to call me before that. I’ll keep an eye out by myself fir some unwanted knots among the strings._ ”  
“Thank you Déluge.”  
“ _Oh please. I’m your Ego, my goal and reason to exist is to fulfill your most selfish wants. I’m glad you’re not that selfish though, it would have been a pain to serve you. Or more interesting._ ”  
“Are you calling me boring?”  
“ _Maybe? Anyway, this is goodbye. For now, at least. See you”_

__

And just like that they were not there anymore. Cana looked at where they were floating just seconds ago, before turning around and walking toward the shop. She had a life to live out until it’s last string gave her up.

__


	14. 'and you believed her?'

Her whole body hurt. It wasn’t like she was agonizing or suffering, but the low rumble of pain was coursing through her core. She sniffled as she shakily tried to bandage a cut that had already stopped bleeding. Darla didn’t want to go back to the training field, it scared her a lot. Morga scared her a lot. She started to sniffle as she realized she was too sore to do anything, she doubted she could even stand up and walk back to the hut without tripping on her own feet. The girl lowered her head and repressed a sob. Maybe it would have been better to just die where mom had hid her, because all she was now was a hindrance and a dead weight: she wasn’t able to hunt, she wasn’t able to help, and she couldn’t even stand the training Morga was putting her through.

“What are you doing, crying behind the tree?”

She blenched and looked up, locking her light purple eyes on the young man that had addressed her. It was Montag, her new big brother if she could call him that. He was much older than her -almost ten years! – but he was whining a lot like a kid. His playful smirk disappeared the moment he saw she was really crying. He sat down, looking worried.

“What’s wrong kid?”

She hesitated for a moment, but she could always be open hearted with him, he was the most supportive of the group.

“Morga said she would go easy on me for the training, but my body hurt all over. If that’s what she when she’s going easy, and I can’t stand it, am I fit to be part of the tribe? I’m just weak…”

He stopped her with a hand on her head gently ruffling her hair before going to her shoulder and bringing her close. She was small compared to him who was almost an adult. He held her there, waiting for her to calm down her sobs.

“Did you seriously believe her? Mom never goes easy on anyone. If anything, that means she see you’re strong enough to stand it, she wouldn’t hurt a kid. And it’s okay for you to not handle it well, you’re not even seven years old, look at me, I’m sixteen and I had trouble dealing with the training. Don’t put yourself down okay? You’re doing amazing.”

The young hunter kissed the top of her head and she managed a little smile, hugging him close. Her arms were stiff but she did her best. It still hurt, she still felt like shit and like she didn’t really belonged here. But if Montag said she was capable of handling it then she would make sure she’d live up to that. They stayed like this for a little moment, Darla deeply enjoying the warmth he gave off, until he decided to get up. Without a word he took her in his arms and squeezed her against him as a hug before walking back toward what they called home. When they crossed the arena where their mother trained them, Montag whispered 

“You know, we should totally try and train on our side, make up some secret moves to take mom by surprise. What do you think, that’d be fun no?”

The young girl giggled in the fur on his shoulder, nodding her approval. That would be a sight to see if they managed to take Morga down, even at two against one. Plus, she had the hope that maybe, her new brother would be kind enough to teach her or explain to her again what she didn’t understood from Morga herself. For now, night was settling in, and so they went into the hut to get some food and sleep. Tomorrow would be a better day for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Montag's last sentence is definitly here for a flashback in Muriel's route. i won't apologize.


	15. 'don't...don't touch me'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first meeting for lifelong friends

Sneaking in was way easier than what she had though, the security was so bad Darla wondered if the coliseum and its main occupant were really important to Lucio. Not Darla, she corrected herself, Cana. What a pain she inflicted on herself, she thought as she went past another guard without any trouble. Changing her name was a stupid idea, considering the state of things it probably would not have been any trouble to go by her birth name. But her dumb ass panicked and now she couldn’t just go to Asra and tell him. ‘oh yeah, my name isn’t Cana, it’s actually Darla, but I changed it when I came here because there was a tiny chance that my brother, you know the guy that has been bothering you and locked your best friend under his public execution stage; might recognize it.’ Not many chances for it to go any kind of well. Speaking of Asra, she was here because he asked her. He was worried about his best friend Muriel; another thing Lucio had managed to hurt. The guy was being used as his personal executioner, against his will according to the white-haired man. She had assisted to some of the fights, they were too lame in her opinion to be anything worthwhile. 

Cana slid inside the rooms under the main arena, still unnoticed somehow. She could hear laments and cries: people Lucio had thrown there to be killed soon enough because they may have looked at him the wrong way or spiced his food too much. Her heart would have hurt a bit if she had time to think about it, but right now she was focused on her main deed: find Muriel and see if he needed to be patched up. She gently patted the pouch at her side, quickly making sure its content was still there. She could feel the bandages rustle and the pointy end of a needle -it was here only if his state was very bad- picked her finger. Now all she had to do was find The Scourge of the South. She almost snarled at the words when her magician friend had told her it was his nickname. She could spit in Montag’s face right now; couldn’t he have thought of anything better? Their mother would have been ashamed of him, which would have only added to the pile…

She straightened her back and focused. Asra had described Muriel’s aura as earthy and warm. She closed her eyes and tried to reach for anything of the likes. He wasn’t in the cells near her, probably too close of the sun to Lucio’s liking. She went deeper among the coliseum’s underground, hiding behind a barrel when she saw a guard next to a heavy wooden door. Risking a peak, she let out an exasperated sigh: the dude was sleeping on the job, seriously? Was nothing important to these people? Muriel’s essence was coming from inside, she could feel it resonate in the stones of the walls and ground. It felt like it would be a comforting one in normal times, one she could almost feel drawn toward, but today it was restless and…scared. The magician walked toward the guard, making sure he was sleeping heavily before stealing the keys and finding the one to use for the door. She took a brick of clay out of her pouch -good lord it must have made a mess inside- and took the print of the steel key. She would come back for sure and she wasn’t going to steal keys every time. She hardened the clay with magic, heating her palms up, before putting everything back in place. She threw a last look at the sleeping man before pushing the door open.

The inside of the cell was better than she thought. It wasn’t dirty which was good considering she was here to help heal someone. Said someone was sulking in the furthest corner of the room, like they were trying to hide from the whole world. Maybe they were. Cana gently closed the door and took a few steps toward the man, kneeling in front of him. The voice that broke the silence was deep and hoped to sound scary. She could only sense he was scared.

“Don’t…don’t touch me!”

She ignored his tone and gently said

“Hi, my name is Cana. Asra asked me to come see you.”

At the mention of his friend’s name, his eyes lighted up a little, but he was still very warried. He studied her for a moment, looking her up and down. It must have been easy to see she wasn’t native from Vesuvia, with a bit of chance it wouldn’t be obvious that she came from the same place as the idiot who locked him down there. More than that, it seemed he was wondering why Asra would send her here for him, like it was unusual or something. She decided to continue, sitting down at a good distance from him to show she meant no harm.

“He was worried because he saw you get hurt. He asked me to come here and heal or patch you up depending on what you needed.”

Without breaking eye contact she took the pouch off her belt and pushed it toward him as far as she could band down her arm to go.

“I’m guessing you won’t let me touch you, but if you need there’s bandages and alcohol inside there. Also, a needle if you need a bigger patch up.”  
“Why would you help me.”  
“I told you, it’s because Asra sent me. He told me you would be distrustful but I though hearing from him would calm you down a little… we met just a few months ago, and since I specialize in healing magic he asked me if I could go here and see if you needed help. Sounds unlike him?”  
“...No. that’s exactly what he would do.”

He reached for the pouch and dragged it toward him, still not entirely relaxed. She didn’t blame him, he grew up being scared of people, or so Asra told her. He rummaged inside and took bandaged out, and tried to band up his left arm, groaning in pain as he did so.

“It would be better with two arms. Can I help?”

He seemed startled as if he had already forgotten she was here. He grumbled something under his breath and tried again, alone. She waited patiently until he gave a defeated sigh and slowly extended his arm toward her. She couldn’t believe her eyes at the blush that had spread on his cheeks, that she could see even under his messy dark locks. Her heart fluttered; he was very handsome right now. He let out aa ‘please’ soft enough that she might have imagined it. She went closer to him and gently started to bandage the wounded part of his arm. She was too focused on her work to see the eyes with which he looked at her. There were few chances that she might have been able to handle the intensity of the green staring at her without blushing.

The deed was done easily. Muriel had let her bandage his other arm but had strongly refused she touched his torso, even if she argued it was the most important part to make sure healed well. Being confronted to an unloving wall she just sighed and got up.

“I need to go before the guard wakes up. I’m leaving the bandages with you; you’re going to need them.”

Cana took her pouch back and turned toward the door. As she reached it, she heard the last thing she thought she would tonight.

“Will you come back?”

She turned to the giant man, sitting in his corner, looking at her like a puppy scared to be left alone. She wanted nothing more than rush to him and hug him tightly, tell him it’ll be okay and that’ll she come back every day if he wants. But she didn’t, her cold southern way of living getting in the way. She gave him a smile, a warm one, and said

“I will every time you have to fight, so every few days. If you want, I’ll come more regularly, you’ll just have to ask. But I’ll always be there to patch you up.”

He nodded, looking down on the bandages she had left him. She made sure the man outside the well was still asleep before opening the door and getting out. Before she was out of sight she let out a ‘Goodbye Muriel’ and then closed the door, not expecting an answer.


	16. 'can you think about it?'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> very short and weird one

_“Could you think about it? Hm? For like a second and half could you consider how hurt everyone would be if you died doing something like that? Do you have any idea how heartbroken we would be? How absolutely destroyed I’d become? You’re fucking everything to me, and I can’t understand how you can put your life on the line like that! Don’t you care? Doesn’t it matter, what we feel? And don’t tell me you want to protect us, because nothing would be worse to us than losing you, again for some like Asra! If you want to protect us than stay by our side, don’t go fight the Devil by yourself and risk an eternity of doom for us! I don’t want you playing the hero that dies a heroic death, this is not one of Julian’s play this is real life! Dying for others is nothing else than cowardice and for fuck sake if I know something it’s that you’re not a freaking coward! So you better stay with me and everyone, because we’re not letting you go, you’re not getting away with that! We care for you! Think about it I beg you! Please… I can’t go on without you, I need you, they need you, all of us! Please…please…”_

With the blink of an eye the image of a crying Portia disappeared. She was named Portia, right? That’s the name that came to her mind when she saw the freckled face who always ended up stained with tears. She liked that face, it was very familiar, comforting. It bothered her that she couldn’t remember who she was. Who were Julian and Asra as well? She couldn’t remember. Those three names were the only one she had ever heard, here in the white endless place she was sitting in. She could turn that into whatever she desired, usually it was a very large field with a green sea at the end and some mountains or forest on the sides. It all felt so familiar, and yet she couldn’t remember anything. She wondered why Portia was crying, she obviously was talking to her, whoever she was. She let herself fall flat on her back, looking up at the sky she imagined. She knew lots of things, nature, colors, animals, numbers…but she couldn’t remember how she learned all that. It was like a dream, except she never dreamed. She never slept either, she wasn’t tired. Maybe she was dead and the woman had been right to cry, but then how could she think like that?  
No, she had to be alive. She yawned and close her eyes. She didn’t feel tired, never, but she felt human doing these things, it felt natural even if not needed. Breathing deeply, she once again tried to remember, anything that could help her. But nothing came. Once she had tried reaaaally hard and had managed to see glimpses of something: she was fighting against a goat that stood on its rear legs like a human, and it was very angry. Maybe it was the Devil Portia had talked about? It looked soft. But whatever. Right?


	17. 'it's nothing personal'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's one of those where you're smiling but feel bad for whoever you're spitting on...

Asra was laying on his stomach, unconscious, and she herself was spitting blood on the stone paved ground, holding her torso like she could as pain was shooting up from what she guessed were broken ribs. The devil was standing in front of them, his playful smirk not leaving his lips for a second. They had come here to try and put an end to this, and yet they had been overpowered so brutally neither could have predicted this would happen. She was glad Mélusine hadn’t come with them, staying with Muriel in the secret dining-room to fight the courtiers. It couldn’t be worse than seeing her dearest friends getting pummeled into the ground by a goat. Said goat snickered and opened his mouth to taunt them.

“I am truly sorry Cana. It’s nothing personal. You’re just in my way.”

He raised his hand and black chains started to appear and wiggle toward them, frighteningly. She forced herself on her feet ready to put herself in front of whatever might injure her friend even more. She coughed up blood once again, her ribs were painful, even though they were in the magical realms she could feel it so hard it was making her nauseous. As expected, the chains withdraw from her touch, Salim had said that the same magic couldn’t work on her twice and he seemed to be right. The devil looked barely annoyed by this fact, merely conjuring more chains as to try and overwhelm her in her attempt at protecting Asra’s unconscious body. It thankfully did not work, as even if she was wounded, her magic supply was still full. The goat snarled

“You were always a pain. Not only the very nature of your being, but everything that happens because of you is exceedingly harmful to any of my plans. If it wasn’t for you the deal with that blonde idiot would have been finished three years ago, gosh you almost made it so that he never had to make this deal in the first place! If it wasn’t for you and your absurd ability to get in my way and on my nerves, I could be master of every single realm already, and I could see them again--!”

He stopped himself in his tracks, glaring at the magicians with his dark red eyes. For a moment he was so angry the foundation of this part of the realm shook. She was scared. Right now, she realized just how much powerful he was compared to her, and even if Asra was awake she doubted they could have gone forward with their plan. But she still had to try, to make sure to not let any chances slip by. It’d be the only opportunity they would have to seal off this annoying pest. The Devil had gained his composure back, and he started to speak again, anger lingering in the back of his voice.

“You see, I am not the beast hungry for power you all seem to see me as. Sure, part of why I want to govern the realms is because then I could escape being nothing else than a simulacrum of every stereotype everyone has toward ‘the Devil’. But that’s not all. See, even if it’s not personal you are linked to the loss of someone who is very precious to me. I don’t know how but I can feel it. Years ago, they disappeared, but if I can control everything, then I can bring them back. That is all I want, more than power. And you _keep getting in my way._ ”

He was angry again, almost spitting the last words with a deep hatred for the young woman. Who could she possibly have taken from him at any moment in her life? She had rarely gone to the realms before this year, even before loosing her memories, and she had never cut someone from there. Yet he seemed so sure about himself when he asserted her fault in the matter. He took one step forward, ready to strike her once more since the chains were of no effect. In fear she took one back, but was stopped as a pair of ethereal hands put themselves on her shoulders from behind. She couldn’t see who it was, but the hands were slim and of a pale glowing yellow. In front of her the Goat’s face fell apart, a mix of emotions never meant to cross it suddenly covering every inch. Pain, relief, joy, anger, sadness, longing. She felt the hands squeeze her shoulders, surprise and incomprehension flashing in her opponent’s eyes. She could feel anger radiating from behind her. He tried

“Dél?”  
_“Do not call my name. Do not address me at all. Go die in a hole. Disappear from my sight at once.”_

The voice was so angry Cana shivered; it was like centuries of deep harsh loathing were unleashed in just a few words. The sentence was cold, the tone was spectral. Even the devil took a step back in surprise. She could see conflict, like he wanted noting more than to stop everything just to be with the ethereal creature, but pride or fear even, were keeping him back from it.

“But, why? You disappeared and left me alone for so long, why?! What’s your excuse? At least I tried, I tried so hard, I tried all I could to bring you back, to find you again! And this is how we greet each other when it finally happens?”  
_“What else did you, exactly, expected? From the guy that kept telling you not to do things like that? Oh, how many times have I held you back from idiocies like these, did it never reached you that I hated your guts and how you behaved? I tried to change you so much, but to no avail as I see. I disappeared, it’s true, for many years I was locked away, and all you did was fall back in your old bad habits. Worse than everything else: you tried to kill Cana just now right under my very eyes. That I can never forgive. Do you want to know? You disgust me, every inch of you is nothing but rotten and unlovable. I hate you.”_

The sheer shock on his face made the magician feel almost bad for him. If she had tried everything she could, bringing herself to hurt others as to accomplish her goal, only to be met with this reaction; how would she feel? Broken. Heartbroken, miserable, like it was all in vain. She saw that in the red eyes looking in utter disbelief at the person behind her.

“That’s’ not fair…”  
_“No, maybe not. But it sure is personal.”_

With that her vision went white, she felt power coursing through her. Her hand extended against her will toward her idle opponent. He wasn’t even going to try and counter what was coming. Would that be the last thing she’d see of the Devil: a defeated creature, heartbroken and giving up? Before she knew it a spell unknown to her was let loose and everything was lost in a bang of light. When she could see again, she was on the ground, Asra next to her. They were back in their realm. The magician smiled at her as she sat up. There was no trace of the devil or of the ethereal creature. As a crying Portia suddenly appeared and hugged her as tight as she could, her friend explained that she had sealed the devil by herself, he had woken up from unconsciousness just at the right moment to see it.

“You feel immediately after however. What happened?”  
“It’s a long story…”


	18. 'you're going to have to kill me yourself'

Cana and Lucio were sitting next to the fountain, the dogs playing around happily. It had been a month since the Mascarade where they defeated the Devil himself, her brother was slowly getting integrated back into society; even if it was hard and he kept a low profile, he was doing his best. And Cana was here to support him all the way. It was a sunny day, not too hot thanks to the breath of wind that was peacefully swirling down on Vesuvia today. The siblings were watching their pet play around, Coony had managed once again to make friends of uncertain animals: Mercedes and Melchior were abnormally nice to the cat.

To spend time, they had chosen to recall some stories from the past; for most of them she herself had been too small to remember it all, but she knew it had happened. After a while they turned it into a game: Cana had to find if the stories were true or false. She was dumbfounded at how much stuff had fell upon her in just three years or living as a Morgasdottir, they had gotten into so much trouble together she wondered how she had stayed alive. It did catch up to her three years ago however.

“This one is easy because you should remember it: we got chased by a bone wyvern and you fell into a frozen lake. Happened or not?”  
“Definitely happened, you talk about it all the time.”

She could feel the cold and hard grip of rotting hands on her legs every time it was mentioned. Most of it was a blur, but this part she just couldn’t forget, it had traumatized her. Her brother nodded, trying to find another story she probably didn’t know of.

“One day you left by yourself and I saved you from a pack of wolves. Happened or not?”  
“I’m going to go with ‘that happened’. Sounds like little feral me would do.”  
“Correct. Hmmm… One time you got sick and was delirious for a few days, only saved by your brave older brother that went and fetch rare herbs from a cave full of monsters!”  
“…. That has to be a hoax.”  
“Sheesh, just because you can’t imagine me putting my life on the line for you?” he let out a laugh. “That was half true, there weren’t any creatures in the cave. But I did save you.”  
“You know I’m starting to think the world has something against me. According to you I almost died so many times. I even died once! And every time from far or close, it’s thanks to you that I survived… Without you I probably wouldn’t be standing there at all…”

Lucio looked taken aback by that statement, looking at her then at the ground, processing. She was so close to Death, a million times almost stepping on the other side, but he had always been there to avoid that. Sure, without his stupid pact she wouldn’t have died of the Plague, but it also was because he had refused to give up that Asra could jump on the occasion and revive her. If it wasn’t for him, she probably would not have lived pass eight years old. Her brother tried one of his flashy grins, but it was filled with sadness and fear, he resented himself deep down and she hated to see him still forcing guilt upon himself.

“Well lucky you for having me; am I right?”

He laughed awkwardly, making Mercedes raise her ears in worry; she too had learned to recognize this kind of sounds, it meant he was deeply unhappy. Cana smiled, a real one, and opened her arms, speaking to no one in particular

“You hear that World? If you want me dead, and to stay dead, you’re gonna have to come and kill me yourself! Because I have the best protection team in existence!”

She giggled, sometime acting childish was refreshing. Allowing herself to e the younger sibling was refreshing. Before they could add anything else, Mercator jumped on her, taking the open arms as an invite for a hug. She fell backward into the water, splashing it around upon impact. The blonde quickly got up, worried, but calmed down s he heard her laugh. Cana had a clear and happy, hearty laugh that always made him smile along. She was drenched but still laughing, catching Mercedes and Coony’s interest. The dog refused to go into the water, never liked the feeling of being wet, but the cat playfully pawed at the water sending some splashing at her. In the end they ended up wet beyond repair, still laughing under Nadia’s half amused glare. It was nice to laugh with her big brother again, now that every worry was behind them. They could as well act like kids a bit, no?


	19. 'it was only you and me, no one else'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> kinda twisted the title for it to fit...

Everything was white. All around the both of them, there was nothing but empty, endless, blinding white. It hurt her eyes. The woman in front of her was smiling, a sweet, loving smile, directed only at her. She wondered where her sisters were, she wasn’t used to being alone, there always was so many people around her all the time. Here in Eden, you were never entirely alone, even if you were to find yourself deprived of the others, you just had to call a name and they would be there for you immediately. So being alone with her Mother was unsettling. She didn’t know this part of the world, maybe Mom had made it up just now for her? She did that a lot when She wanted to speak in private. Maybe she had done something wrong, sometime First or Shin would be called this way when they did bad things. The girl looked up expectantly; maybe it wasn’t something bad, maybe it was like Blay, she was going to receive a gift! A few of her sisters had received special gifts, just for them. Of course, they’d lend them around if someone else needed it. What were they called already? Egoes, right?

“Be nice for a few moments and you’ll be able to go play again with your siblings. But right now, I have a surprise for you.”

Mom looked happy, so she wasn’t getting punished? The smile that spread on her face made the woman giggle. It earned her a gentle head pat, and Mother took her into Her arms. With a little ‘let’s go’ She took one step, and everything changed again. They weren’t back into the Garden, instead it was a room covered in deep blue silk, white dots shinning. She gasped: they were in Mother’s atelier! They weren’t allowed to be there in normal times! Except…

“Look here” Mom pointed at a big orb in the center, inside she could see colorful places and backgrounds. Under were hung dolls. She was one too before mom decided she was finished, and she had become herself: Cana, number 51. Her big sister Sass had made a joke about this number, but she never got it, something related to her world probably.

“Choose a few dolls sweetheart, I’ll link them to you.”  
“Is this my world?” 

The child was beaming with joy and excitement. When her Mother nodded and put her on the soft ground, she happily went and looked through the dolls at her disposition. Edi had explained to her how it worked: Mom made them, then created a world specifically for each of them. The other dolls were people that were important to their story and they could choose who they wanted to spend their lives with. Shin didn’t like that, she recalled. Called it a dollhouse where you could only play the story Mom wanted. Cana never understood her, out of all of them number 19 was one of the oddest, always defying Mother. She looked through the dolls before picking out 8 with a big smile.

“Are you sure you want this many?” mother giggled

She nodded and looked at them, she set two on the side, one in the middle, and the five others on the other side. She pointed at the two dolls whose name tag read Morga and Lucio

“These are family”, to the doll named Portia “this one is love” and to the five others “and these are friends!”

She happily plucked the one with bright orange hair and a big smile. Her name tag read Mélusine, she liked that character a lot already. She did not notice her Mom’s surprise at the sight of it: she hadn’t made that one she was sure of that. But she didn’t have the heart to take it from her. And if it turned out to hurt her, well… she was the one really deciding up there wasn’t She. The woman giggled when Cana tried to hold all the dolls at once, ‘Asra’ kept falling down to her biggest annoyance.

“I have something else for you, sweety.”

She rose on her feet and gently led her by the hand to another corner of her atelier. While working the child noticed three dolls, unfinished.

“Who are these?”  
“The one with black hair is Iruko, and the one with green eyes is Elzy, they’ll be your little sisters when I’m finished with them.”  
“And the third one?”  
“Ah… This is Ava, she’s supposed to be your older sister by 14 numbers… Her world is taking me so long to finish, I can’t complete her without it.”

A shiver ran down the kid spine as she hugged the Lucio doll tighter. Even if it was common knowledge, it was easy to forget that they all had been this: lifeless dolls like the ones she was holding. And if you ended up not being a good enough doll or if your world was too long to set up completely, you just stayed a doll. There were two or three examples of this, like Tally. Mom was keeping the doll in case she wanted to work on her again, but she basically was an abandoned project.   
Mother lead her further inside, and here was waiting for her the biggest surprise: in a golden bubble was sleeping a strange creature, it was all yellow and gold, maybe a bit of grey and silver here and there. It was surrounded by golden threads.

“Cana, this is your Ego, their name is Déluge. With them you can control fate itself. I thought it was time one of you had this kind of ability, considering how bad things tended to turn for your older siblings. You won’t have to worry about anything with them by your side. I’ll leave you with them for a moment okay?”

And with that she was gone, the kid left alone with her very own Ego. She took a few steps closer, looking in awe as they opened their eyes to look at her. Déluge huh? She loved them already. They were very small, just like her. Their eyes twisted upward in that way eyes did when you smiled, and they put their hands on the bubble. She put her own hand over it, the surface was way softer than she expected. She heard their voice, it was a soothing one, kind and warm.

_“Hello little one, a pleasure to finally meet you. Look like we’ll be linked now, huh? I hope I don’t scare you”_  
“It’s okay, you look normal, kinda like Willow and Wispy. Glouton or Monster are way scarier.”  
“ _Ah yes, I remember seeing them being created, nightmare fuel these two. But you seem very brave. We’re going to have fun together._ ” “So, we will be friends?”  
“ _Oh Cana… my sweet little one… you mother may be doing all she can for it not to happen, in the end, outside of Eden, you will realize something utterly inevitable: you will be alone. But do not fret, that is the mere reason on my existence. When it will come to it, child, it will be you and me, only us and no one else.”_


	20. 'hey you're bleeding'

The fall had been harsh, she still had stars in front of her eyes, disoriented. Her head hurt, her whole body did, thankfully not as hard as it should have had. The thick layer of snow had prevented her bones from shattering upon impact, and so did the tree branches that caught on her clothes, slowing her down a bit. Her arms and legs were cut lightly a bit everywhere, but the one that hurt was on her left cheek. Darla winced, trying to get back up, but it hurt so much. She was all alone in the forest, and it was starting to get dark. How did she fell from so up high? She remembered a spike of fear as something jumped on her. Maybe it had fall down with her?

Looking left and right, her neck painfully throbbing as she did so, she tried to pinpoint what animal or creature had tried to kill her. She spotted a wolf, eyes open but idle, a few feet away from her. It didn’t survive the fall; it had been too weak and probably hit a spot with less snow. She herself ad survived by some sort of miracle. She led her head down, allowing it to rest, her head had started spinning from the effort. She slowly tried to move each of her limb, letting out a sigh of pure relief when she was sure none of them were broken or disconnected. She couldn’t move though. With a grunt, she forced herself on her elbows, shaking under the pain and difficulty she was experiencing. She managed to drag herself toward a tree, resting against its trunk, and ended up silently crying. Every inch of her was crying, throwing in pain. Maybe everything inside was broken after all. She looked up at the sky which was turning purple, it was sunset. Would Morga notice she wasn’t home yet? Would she come to ger her? She had said she would take care of her, but considering the state her tribe was in, could she really dispense time and energy for a weakling that couldn’t survive by herself? The answer was no. and it scared her. If she couldn’t move, she would become the prey of other wolves, or even bigger creature. She would die here, from them or from the deadly cold that was spreading like a plague once the sun was down. And she couldn’t move anymore, she just couldn’t. She was exhausted and her vision was blurry. She had lost a bit too much blood getting to the tree.

Fear started to spread harder, making her guts twist. She was wasting her last forces crying, but what else could she do? No one would hear her sobs or her screams, no one she wanted to see. Weakly, Darla gripped the golden medallion she always kept in a pocket. She was sorry, so, so sorry to have wasted so much time. She didn’t have the strength to say it, but the words ringed in her head: ‘I’m sorry mom’. Her sobs became erratic, she was losing breath. She was dying. Taking a big breath in, she decided to try anyway, with all the power of her children’s lungs, she screamed. She wasn’t able to articulate clear words, but it was a cry asking for help, the cry of someone deeply scared and helpless. Only the forest’s silence answered, even the birds had left her alone. She gave up. There truly was no one to help her.  
Just as the thought crossed her mind that she might get eaten alive, something burst from the nearby bushed. She expected a beast, and instead she saw a blond head emerge from the leaves, looking pissed.

“There you are, I’ve been looking for you all afternoon, do you know how many acres of forest I covered just to find you? Thank God you let out that scream because otherwise maybe I wouldn’t have. Mom send me after you when you didn’t appear for dinner. And what was that scream by the way, it sounded like you were dying or someth--…hey, hey are you bleeding!? Oh god you’re bleeding!!”

He was by her side in an instant, looking even more pissed. Montag was about to make snarly remark, when he saw the hole she had made by falling, and the wolf lying dead next to it. He figured it out pretty easily and turned toward her again. His face was much kinder now that he realized she had been in serious trouble all along, not just messing with them.

“Can you even more?”

He pouted when she weakly and slowly nodded ‘no’.

“Too bad, we’ll have to leave the carcass here then.” He gently patted her head, making sure not to pressure her neck. “It must have been hard being alone like this for so long. But it’ll be alright now, I’m here, okay?”

Instead of an answer, Darla started crying, using her last forces to reach for him, searching comfort. Up until now she was half persuaded it was an illusion, she made up to make it easier, but his kind gesture had brough her back to reality. With surprising tenderness, the late teen took her in his arms, holding her just close enough not to aggravate her injuries. Even if he acted brash and bold all of the time, he knew what he was doing. With a last look to the wolf, he hurriedly went back to their camp, telling her words of praise for making it out of the fall and surviving until he got there. It would all be okay now, he assured. She had her new big brother taking care of everything else. The next few days were a blur. This was the first time she scarcely avoided death, thanks to Montag.


	21. 'can you move?'

There was something heavy on top of her. She knew damn well what it was, despite her eyes being closed, and two halves of her were arguing about getting it off or leaving it because it wasn’t that much of a bother. The weight shifted, and she suddenly had hair tickling her nose. Cana moved her head back against the pillow, trying to escape the very long auburn hair her girlfriend usually kept tied up. It was helpless, Portia was sleeping on top of her and there was nothing she could do about it. She opened her eyes with a small smile. The room they slept in was barely lightened up by the rising sun, it was too early for them, especially since the tinier woman had a day off today. On the pillow pile next to the bed, their cats were sleeping, nestled together like them, soft purrs coming from their direction. Peppi and Coony had loved each other from day one as well, it was adorable.  
With a grunt she tried to push Portia away, or at least lower so she didn’t have her hair in the face. She loved her and her smell but it was too early for her to romantically breath in a puff of hair. The woman only tightened her grip on her waist and low giggle was muffled against her shirt. Cana smirked, so that’s how it was going to be.

“Can you move?”

Fake loud snores were the only answer she got. She rose on her elbows but Portia let her whole weight down on her, nailing her back to the bed immediately. Cana scoffed and spread her arms on the bed.

“Ah, woe is me, pinned down by the most majestic beast to the place of my future death! If only I could move out of these silky veils, I could go in a quest for breakfast and feed my queen...!”

Portia giggled again, louder this time, she loved it when her future wife was playing around like this, using big words for nothing. She fell on the side, looking at the bright orange eye her partner always filled with pure joy and love. She still had an arm around her waist but she was free to go anytime now.

“Incredible, am I free?”  
“You have twenty minutes and I want a fuming breakfast in bed, you Ilya-wannabe!”

Cana acted shocked, a hand on over her breast as she gasped, still smiling. She got up and gave Portia a kiss on the nose before putting her pants on and going to the kitchen. Her queen wanted breakfast in bed, who was she to deny her that.


	22. 'you'll be fine I promise'

“Just hang in there Coony!”

With tears flooding her eyes and her vision, Cana ran inside the Palace’s corridor. To her own horror, her cat familiar was in her arms, bleeding way more than he ever should, which was no amount at all. She only knew one person that could stich up an animal as well as a human, and she was running toward them, as fast as she could. She could feel his pain radiating through her, adding to the tears worry had already set free. She urged down the steps leading to Valdemar’s donjon, hoping she could be there in time. She felt like shattering when Coony’s heartbeat started to get slower. He couldn’t die! If he did, she would be left as good as dead! It would be like a part of her very soul had disappeared! As she almost slept, she started to curse Lucio and his stupid dogs. It all happened because he always let them do whatever they want, especially if it’s violent. Since she had started to live with Portia, her familiar was often away, visiting the palace on his own; he loved to come back and use simple words to excitedly tell her what he had find each day. That evening however she felt a sensation of fright, but not experienced by her directly. Concerned, she had followed the cat’s trail, only to feel a sharp bolt of pain in her leg, that vanished almost immediately. Now running she had found with terror that Mercedes and Melchior were “playing” with the poor animal, biting and stressing him like a cat with a mouse. Mercedes would have snapped his rear left in half if she hadn’t intervened and kicked the dog. She didn’t like to hurt animals -especially since the dogs had always been happy to see her- but she could only react violently when worry took over. And it was thanks to the same overwhelming worry that anger hadn’t rise fast enough for her to actually break the poor dog’s teeth. She couldn’t have forgiven herself afterward.

Back to the present, she almost kicked down the back door when entering, screaming the doctor’s name. They seemed baffled to see her like this, just finishing to clean a scalpel, before irritation took over for the door. They didn’t have any time to say anything however because Cana was in their face, crying, holding her poor familiar who was growing weaker by the minute, pleading again and again for them to help him. Valdemar was taken aback; she was never so emotional in front of them, no matter what happened she always tried to keep her cool, for their sake and hate of excessive feelings. If she was crying it was important. Looking down they recognize the cat with a raccoon-like fur, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“Put the cat on the table.”

Without another word they started to collect string and needles to patch the ‘poor creature’ up. The doctor had no particular attachment to the animal, but it would leave deep scars on their favorite test subject, one they wouldn’t be able to erase, ever. Cana obliged, trembling and still sobbing, although she was making an effort to refrain herself as to not annoy her friend. She cat’s breath was heavy and abnormally audible, which only freaked her out. Luckily Valdemar knew what they were doing. It took them over two hours to finish their work, but after only a few minutes she could feel that Coony wasn’t going to die. The magician cried, relieved, as she gently petted her familiar’ head before settling down again, letting the doctor make sure the wounds were sewed back properly. The cat was asleep most of the time thanks to a solid dose of pain killer they had gave him, only opening his grey eyes with a ‘mrrph?’ when he was being bandaged up. He was still very weak, but when the doctor started to take their tools away, considering their work done, he licked the tip of their fingers through the black leather gloves. Valdemar almost froze, once again simply disconcerted by the behavior of the animal. They hesitantly let their hand down on his head, twice, unsure, before going to clean the bloodstained needles.

“He’s going to be very weak for at least a week. Just feed him well and let him sleep, he should be fine. Come see me again if his wounds open up again, which we know won’t happen because _I_ did the stitching.”

Cana let out a weak laugh, followed by a just as weak ‘thanks valdy’, taking the animal in her arms to go back to the surface. They both were exhausted because of their link; they needed a good nap that would last at least a month. Wait that was called a coma. While walking in the corridors back to the cottage, she crossed Lucio. She almost ignored him but he looked apprehensive when he noticed her. When his eyes went down to the cat, he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t say anything and let her be on her way. It surprised her but she met with her lover soon enough and she explained she had scolded Lucio herself for letting his dogs hurt Coony. She blushed as she recalled that she screamed at the former Count even though she was a simple servant, fearing for her job’s safety. Cana reassured her, but a yawn cut through her sentence. The red head looked startled before smiling wide and saying.

“Oh you need rest! Don’t worry, let’s go back and I’ll make you some soup, Mazy gave me a new recipe I wanted to try out! Plus, I’m sure Pepi will be glad to see us come back and make sure Coony is safe!”

She took her hand in hers, the warmth that radiated from it was so soothing…


	23. 'don't you dare leave me, not now!'

Snow. It always happened around snow for some reason. They had beautiful days where sun shined or where they would walk around the tundra and nothing would happen then. But let it snow for five minutes and gave Darla a forest or some trees and she’d find a way to kill herself by accident. It was like the world itself was trying to end her. Had she done something wrong? Were the Gods her parents prayed that angry at her for not dying when the Beast had attacked? Or was it the one Creature her new family worshipped that was after her life so badly? It was like something wanted her dead, and the only force preventing that was the blond teen holding her against his chest, trying to prevent the bleeding as he could.

Montag was panicked, he should have been used to seeing her like this, it was becoming a familiar sight, and yet fear overwhelmed his heart and his eyes as his hand pressed tightly against her abdomen. He and the little girl had gone fetch firewood when a hoard of disheveled wolves had attacked them. The wolves were a recurrent theme as well in the scenarii putting her life in danger. Her big brother had pushed them off, grinning as he brag about getting some pelts back home, but one of them survived long enough to sink its teeth in the child. It was killed soon enough afterward, but the damages were done. And they had been done deeply. Montag, as proud as he was with his 18 years of life, had no idea how to save Darla’s life. He was trying to press snow on the wound, she couldn’t even feel the cold. He was crying, his makeup getting even worse.

“Don’t you dare pass away, don’t you fucking dare! Not now, not you! Not you…”

Was he saying this because dad died sooner this year? But he killed him himself, and he was trying to kill mom as well. Maybe that was why she was so close to dying every time? Maye the creature to which he gave dad’s heart knew he couldn’t kill her himself, so it was helping, because it wanted her heart as well? She had the hope that Montag wouldn’t have traded her life for power, taking his ugly crying for her right now as all the evidence she needed. Her blood was sipping into the snow, staining its immaculate purity with a dark red that spread and spread…

There was no escape for her today, that would be the last time she would take a breath or open her eyes. The only thing awaiting her was not future, but whatever could be considered as an after-life. Half of her was in pieces, she probably had holes in her left lung, her ribs were broken, and the little meat she had on her bones was shredded. Yet she couldn’t feel the pain of it all. That meant it was too late, didn’t it? If she was leaving, she at least wanted to stop his crying as the last thing she’d do on this earth. Darla weakly raised her hand toward his face. It was trembling because of the effort; her vision became blurry, she had lost too much blood, did she even have a minute left? She tried to muster a smile as well, but her lips were too heavy. 

Montag grasped her little hand in his, but she didn’t felt it, it was like watching from afar, nothing seemed real or concerning her. She already was in the grave. It didn’t come across as she wanted, his sobbing only worsening. What else could she do? What was still intact from her heart shattered as she heard him plead for her to stay with him. She would if she could, but it was above her powers.

_“Or is it?”_

The weird, unknown voice ringed in her empty head. What was that? In awe, she watched as golden strings gently warped around her limbs. She saw tiny knots slowly untying themselves. Montag was suddenly silent, incomprehension added to his tired face. When the last knot was let lose, a flash of light blinded them both, and when they could see again… it was like there had never been any danger. The wolves were still there, dead, but the child was fine, not any pain, not a scratch to be seen. She bolted upward, sitting down in the snow which was lacking any trace of blood as well. It was like the heartbreaking moment that was displaying for them had never occurred. Throwing away concerns like he did so well, her brother took her in his arms and held her tightly, tears rolling down his cheeks again. She herself was too shocked to say anything, she could barely process what was happening and give the hug back.  
After a while, they let go. It was getting late and mom would scold them. Speaking of which, before going and collect the pelts, they crossed pinkies and said the words that had become like a ritual at this point

“Not a single word to mom.”


	24. 'we can get you fixed in no time'

“Uh…what did you say?”

Cana heard her white-haired friend ask from the shop. She herself was in the back, taking notes of the stocks they had received in the morning. He sounded more distraught than she ever heard her, mixed with confusion. Curious, she went near the door to listen better

“I need you to save Milly! His arm fell off! You’re a magician right, you can do that?”  
“Well you see that’s not really how magic works, plus… Milly seems out of my range…”

Intrigued, Cana walked into the room, not expecting to see a teared-eye little girl holding a broken plush in her arms, in front of a confused Asra. With a smile she went closer and kneeled close to the kid. Without even a hesitation the brunette handed her the toy, looking determined through the tears

“You! You can fix Milly, right? I know it, I saw you heal birds in the square!”

The adult took a stern look, holding the plush and pretending to give it a deep examination around the ‘wound’. She nodded in understanding and said

“That must have been a rough accident, truly, she has to be a warrior to handle such a wound and still keep a smile! But do not worry dear Milly, we can get you fixed back up!” turning to the kid she asked: “Why don’t you tell me all about the adventure while I heal poor old Milly?”

The child gave her the biggest smile as she took her hand and lead them to a pile of cushion, sitting on it with some strings and a needle. The girl was named Martine, she was very cute with her hair up in twin tails. She had saw her near the baker, waiting for the bread leftovers. Milly was a light blue rabbit plush with a smile embodied on its face. Cana was told everything about their misadventure with one of the ‘big bad and terribly mean’ eels in the water tank near her home. She had bravely retrieved the arm despite her fear and immediately brough her dearest fallen comrade to their shop in hope of a healing spell. But the man had been not helpful at all until she arrived! The logician gave an amused look to her friend who watched over them from his spot, in case new customers came by.

She was allowed to hear all about the numerous adventure the child and her cotton friend went trough in all those years -which were a lot since she was already 6! - and how it was the first time she ever got injured. Cana was happy to hear Martine ramble while she sewed the plush back in place. She was done in a matter of minute, being used to patch up her own clothes in the wild this was an easy task for her. The girl beamed with joy the moment she held her plushie close again. Before leaving she kissed the magician on the cheek and gave her a piece of candy she had snatched from the market place earlier. She waved the kid goodbye but froze when a deep feeling of dread and the image of a red beetle imposed themselves on her. She got confused as she closed the shop’s door, not imagining for a second the reasons she would meet the child again at the Lazareth in a year or two.


	25. 'please get up'

Darla watched with horror as Montag lend another blow to Lux, sending him on the ground. She couldn’t intervene, she wasn’t allowed to be here in the first place. If she was found out Morga would most certainly have her head. For the first time, since she had set foot in this tribe and became a Morgasdaughter, she hated her brother’s victorious grin. His joyous expression she usually loved and that brought her warm, came to her eyes with nothing else than fear.

On the ground, her father was coughing his lungs out. He was sick since a few days prior when Monty had turned eighteen. It had been an amazing day; she had got the right to taste alcohol for the first time when mom wasn’t looking. The day after, dad was suddenly sick like a dog, and her brother was asking a duel to the death. Dad had seemed proud, she had though it wouldn’t go as far as one killing the other, they were family after all, but now that she saw how heinous Montag was in every blow, she realized she probably would never get to say goodbye to her father. Like she never got to say goodbye to her birth parents. She had the hope, very thin hope, that maybe he would see her between the trees despite her hiding, and would call it off; but he was too focused on humiliating their father to notice anything else.

The people watching were divided among themselves: some were cheering, others were worried, outraged even, at the turn things were taking. Sure, such a combat was seen as a good thing in the tribe, but Lux was so sick you couldn’t call it a fair fight. Once again, their heir was showing off how cowardly he could be. As much as the child didn’t like them to call him a coward, she was also angry at how he was treating their father. And yet she couldn’t do anything.

The older man got up on his feet again, brandishing his sword weakly. His posture was weak and his limbs were shaking from exhaustion, sweat was pearling down his forehead. He was emaciated, not fit for fighting at all in his current state. Was pushed Darla over to be warry of the blond, was the foul magic she could feel. It wasn’t just on her father, even if it was there the strongest: it was in the whole forest, watching over them, sickeningly hovering above the trees. She could feel a fouler presence deeper in the woods. Maybe if she was to go toward it, she could ask them to stop what was happening and save her dad? No, fool! Remember the bone wyvern and everything else. Nothing that emits such aura is good. With a sad look she wondered what Montag had traded to get to do what he was doing.

With a hard kick to the stomach, Lux was down again, on his knees, wheezing and holding in whatever little he had been able to ingest in the morning. Her brother himself started to look tired, breathing heavily between his teeth. ‘please, please, oh please! Please dad get up!’ she internally screamed as the younger marched over to their father, raising his sword for a final blow, taking his time like he was enjoying the though of what was to come. The elder raised his head and looked at his son. He murmured something that she couldn’t make out in the distance. But he smiled. Montag stopped himself as he heard it. She hoped, maybe he had changed his mind, maybe…!

In a swift movement the steel sword was buried into the man’s chest, bloody rapidly pouring out, into the clothes, onto the snow. Darla didn’t processed it right away, her mind and thoughts freezing on the spot. It wasn’t happening, this wasn’t real. She left immediately, going back to the hut they were all sharing. She sat on her bedroll, waiting. Surely, she had not just seen that, it was her mind being dizzy. Maybe she had fallen sick as well? A few minutes later, or hours she did not know, she was shaken out of her torpor by Montag opening the door with a slam, grinning ear to ear. She saw Morga walk in behind him. Not dad. He was probably tired out from the fight and would arrive later. Her brother sat next to her and, an arm over her shoulders, proudly exclaimed

“Guess what Darla, your beloved big brother just won his fight! We’ll have to burry dad today!”

She didn’t share a single once of his joy. The moment his finished his sentence, she started wailing and ran away. For the first time in her life she ran away from Montag; in hate and fear of being the next.


	26. 'i refuse to believe it will all end like this'

“Is this all that was planned for us? Nothing else? Just pain and sorrow? Don’t we deserve at least a bit of sympathy?”

Cana was down on her knees, anger fueling her words as she stayed still in this nothingness. Everything and everyone were gone, except for her and Déluge, who she was talking to. Her world had just ended, the story was finished. She was waiting for it to begun again, like it always does for one like her. A Layer would start a story over from the beginning, trying new outcomes and strategies as to save the people they had been linked to in their world; it would go on for a long time, until they were satisfied and were able to take all those they cared about in Eden. Or at least that’s what they try to do. But some like Cana were doomed, she had no way of changing anything, she wasn’t given the strength to accomplish this. In her world, she was rendered powerless against what would come and take everyone she cared away in the blink of an eye. Just like number 19, she started to question if Mother had ever planned on giving them all happy endings.  
Her Ego was silent in front of her, even the usual sound of golden bracelet softly colliding or of strings waving through the air, that usually went wherever they would, was missing. Cana was so angry, at Mother, at them, and at herself for being weak. She was number 51, one of the last, she should be better, have it easier than the elders! Mother had said that each new layer was stronger! Maybe Mother lied about that too… She sniffled, rubbing her reddened eyes. What was the point of being the main character if she couldn’t help? The magician unleashed her anger on the golden creature, taking the opportunity to let go of some pent-up anger on something, anything, even if she would regret it.

“And what about you? You said we would meet when I would need you! You said you would help me! Even when I couldn’t remember you, I called for help, so why didn’t you come?! YOU SAID YOU WOULD HELP ME!!!”  
“ _I also said that in the end it would only be the both of us Cana._ ”

She went silent, the words chilling her to her core. How dared they say that to her. She felt anger burning deep inside her chest, summoning a ball of fire in her hand, ready to throw it at them, but stopped herself, tears coming down again. She started to sob, lowering herself to the ground, head resting on a soil that did not exist here. Hurting Déluge was taking it too far, it wasn’t their fault. And she couldn’t be mad at Mother either, she knew deep down that She cared for them all; she had saw her once, working on Pandora’s world, exhausting herself so that her fourth daughter could save the too many dying people in her story. If she had done it for her, then most likely she did it for everyone. She remembered how She cried while holding Blay, apologizing for giving him a body that didn’t fit him at first, and not being able to salvage the people he would grow to care for now.  


“I refuse to believe it will end like this. Not every time. I will find a way, and we will get out of this victorious.”

Déluge didn’t seemed convinced, but she took their hand in hers and said with a smile.

“After all. I have destiny on my side, don’t I?”


	27. 'You won't die, not on my watch'

The both of them were sitting upstairs, under the window in the little space they used as a kitchen. Mélusine had her head resting against a pillow while Cana was rendering a few plants to dust, focused. They had been alone for over two weeks now, Asra had not given a single sign of life since he left, not that they were worried, he probably was dozing off in the sun of his little coward hideout. The magician was still angry at him, but she couldn’t deny that she missed her friend. The two women had received a lot of demands, the older was refusing any that didn’t have upper importance right now. She was maxing out the medicines and healing spells, focusing on finding a cure and supplying the dying with pain-killers. Mélusine was helping as she could, but she wasn’t allowed to do much, too risky.  
The ginger was catatonic, and had been for most of the day, just laying there looking in the empty. It was worrying considering that she usually was such a beaming ball of pure joy and energy, but could Cana blame her? Death was at their door and their best friend had left them behind after failing to convince them to go with him. And unlike the brunette, she didn’t have the means to help people, a thing she was delighted by, and lacking it had to be frustrating as hell. As the experienced magician finished to bottle a new potion, her voice finally pierced the silence

“Am I going to die?”

She had thrown the question out there without moving, not even looking like she expected an answer. Cana refrained a tired sigh and sat down next to her, gently caressing her hair. She needed to comb them; they hadn’t been cared for in a while. Her green eyes went and locked themselves in hers, the young woman was just as tired as her. At this point it didn’t mattered if the words were true or obvious lies: she needed to hear something good, not about how the market place was empty, not about the numbers of dead each day, not about how much finding a cure seemed impossible. She needed good news. The oldest bent down a little and kissed her cheek gently, pulling a few strands of hair behind her ear. She had always acted a little motherly toward the woman, despite the little gap in age they had; it never bothered either.

“Listen Mélu, and you listen well. You won’t die. Not on my watch, and you know I have eyes at the back of my head when it comes for you. You will be safe; _I will_ keep you safe, from anything. You know, Julian asked me not to tell anyone because it’s top secret and all, bit we’re actually making progress on a cure. You’ll see, it will soon be nothing but a distant and faint bad memory.”  
“I heard they opened the island across the port, there’s a crematorium there, they bring sick people in and they never come back…”  
“Don’t worry, you’ll never set a single foot there.”  
“What about you?”  
“Oh, Mélu please. You know I’m unkillable.”

She punctuated her sentence with a little laugh that actually brough a smile to the younger one. Cana had never fallen sick, and according to the retailing of her childhood, she was indeed pretty much immortal. A door opened downstairs, their little bell ringing. Cana caressed her head once again and got up

“Take a nap if you feel tired, I can handle the shop on my own.”  
“Cana? You promise we won’t die?”  
“I never lied to you, did I? Now sleep.”


	28. 'ouch...that must hurt'

“For fuck sake Darla get back down here!”

The kid giggled and only went higher up the tree. They had been playing hide and seek, a way for Montag to escape his responsibilities and for her to be entertained. When he had found her once again and started chasing her, she climbed up a tree nearby. She thankfully was very agile and had no trouble getting up and down a trunk. Her brother on the other hand didn’t like that at all, too risky, and he could rip his clothes! That was a definite no-no. the reason he wasn’t climbing after her, despite urging her to get back on the ground, as well. He was no fun; she knew she had a very bad habit of ending breaking her bones but the branches were steady and thick enough she shouldn’t have to worry about it. She sat on one and looked down at him, grinning.

“So what now? You’re not going to get me?”

He snarled and paced around the trunk, obviously worrying

“Come on Darla, it isn’t funny, I don’t want you getting hurt again. You have more scars than me already.”

Montag was right, and since for once he was the voice of reason, she decided to climb down. It was all fun and game until he started worrying, the kid didn’t like to have him like this for her. She was studying the branches to find the safest way to get down when something shifted in the distance. She looked toward it, confused, but before she could discern anything, the branch she was sitting on was cut neatly from the trunk, and she was falling down. She screamed but never hit the ground, the sudden surge of adrenaline never getting to be used as she fell safely in Montag’s arms. She was shaking, something had just tried to kill her. Maybe not personally, but the threat had been here. The blond was looking at the branch in confusion, holding on her a bit tighter. She yelped as a surprising sharp bolt of pain struck her arm. Looking at it, both of them could see a deep cut with blood slowly seeping out.

“Ouch, that must hurt.”

That was all he could muster in the confusion. He set her down on the ground and garroted her arm, with one of the fabrics she held around her waist. Thanks to the adrenaline the pain was numbed, as long as you didn’t touch down too hard on it.

“How do we explain this to mom…?”  
“We don’t. You fell and hurt yourself. She’s used to it.”  
“That…that was aiming for me… do you think something is trying to kill me? Why do I keep getting close to dying…?”  
“I’m sure you just have very bad luck.”

Without another word he took her back in his arms and walked back to camp to patch her wound properly. Darla had a last look in the depths of the forest, wondering what was in there trying so hard to end her every day.


	29. ''shit wait...i'll patch you up'

It all had started as Cana being a little bit too enthusiast about her day. She had just spent many hours exhausting herself through different means, like sparing with Vulgora or playing with her nieces while their parents were catching upon some restless nights. She was just beaming with joy when she entered the donjon to hang out with Valdemar before Portia’s shift ended, much to the demon utter disgust. They hated emotions that were too much displayed on one’s face; especially in front of them. No matter they liked her, the magician was no exception to the ‘no feels in the donjon’ rule, and she made the mistake of forgetting it.  
She had sat on the table they usually operated upon, blabbering endlessly about absolutely everything that had happened to her from sunrise to now. She even was swinging her legs happily. Valdemar was almost frightened to see her like this, sure she always spoke a lot in their opinion but this was something else they weren’t used to at all, and it was unnerving. Because of that they didn’t manage to focus on their work properly, today they wanted to test a new draught supposed to stem the blood flow of someone of human nature. Even thought not really human her body was working close enough to one, so they would just have to take the results with a grain of salt. The problem was, they weren’t getting any results soon, because Cana kept moving around on the table like a child and it was infuriating. They almost wanted to stick the syringe right into her neck and leave her there for the next hour or so, to be at peace. But they couldn’t do that without the small but persistent feeling of remorse.

They made step forward and clamped a hand hard on her shoulder, getting a reaction they absolutely did not expect: she decked them in the face. The demon took a step backward and lost their balance under the strength of the blow, ending up putting their hand on the box containing scalpels that fell with them and gave them lots and lots of tiny cuts through the leather glove. They both started at each other for a moment, Cana not immediately realizing she, by reflex, punched her own friend. She was on the ground next to them in a heartbeat, gently taking their hand in hers to see if de damages were important. Valdemar just looked at her, their red eyes glaring, emotions fighting in them, between pure rage for being hit, and acknowledgment that they were in the wrong for startling her.

“Shit I’m so sorry Valdi I didn’t meant to… I’ll patch you up!”

They almost raised a hand to their chest in utmost outrage. Last time news came around they were the doctor here, not her! When she didn’t even registered their reaction, too absorbed in gathering bandages and band aids, they let it slide and sighed; what more could happen? At least she should be able to do a decent bandage after spending so much time here, and they could always do it better themselves afterward. They stayed sitting, pushing the scalpels on the side, waiting as she meticulously made sure every little cut was cleaned and properly covered. It’s not like the pristine scalpels could have hurt them when it came to sanitary matters, but she still did. Behind their mask they hid a smile, in the end they had taught her well for that. Cana was a quick learner and she only needed theory or to see something being done to have a clear enough idea how to do it herself. The doctor remembered during the plague, when she had tried to help them and doctor 69 as she could, they barely remember other people so self-scarifying in the human race. When they had learned of their death they were annoyed at best, losing another asset to beat the disease. Now they were glad to see her walk in each day. They almost lost something they had no idea they could gain. Shaking out of their thoughts, they inspected her work and nodded: done well enough. She apologized again and again, they had to shoo her out of the room to go back to her lover. Cleaning up the mess they had made, Valdemar smiled, they had almost lost someone they could call a friend.


	30. 'what were you thinking you could've killed yourself'

It wasn’t the first time it had happened, of course not, this was a common occurrence in the shop, but Cana was still mad at what happened today. Despite every warning, label or precaution for it not to happen, the little ginger girl had managed to nearly cross path with death. The magician had found her on the verge of drinking one of the deadliest draughts they had on the shelves. She had slapped the bottle out of her hands just in time, but she was fuming.

“Can you tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing? Jesus Christ Mélusine! Can you think for once?! THIS COULD HAVE KILLED YOU! YOU COULD HAVE DIED!!! I’m tired of you almost passing away the moment I leave you off my sight! You’re seventeen, act like it! How many times? How many times did Asra and I told you not to touch anything around here? What is it you don’t understand in ‘it’s deadly’? You make me want to pull my hair out in frustration each fucking day! I love you Mélu, I really fucking do, but sometime you’re pushing me to my limits.”

She realized the younger one looked terrified of her as of right now. Cana had never been anything else than gentle and sweet, always putting up with everything she would do. But she was human too, she would snap at a certain point. She did not meant to scare her, but maybe like this it would engrave itself in her mind. Just screaming about it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Punishment was not something she was fond off, but seeing the splattered poison on the ground brough determination back.

“You’re grounded. I’m not letting you go outside until you’ve proven you’re not a danger for yourself. And I’ll tell Asra too so don’t try to sneak past him either.”  
“You’re so mean…”

Mélu was tearing up, almost angry at the consequences of her own actions. Cana couldn’t tell if she was taking in the gravity of her actions just now. She gritted her teeth in annoyance but kept her mouth shut as to not scream all that she had on her heart to the girl; she didn’t deserve not earned anger.

“If I’m oh so mean than act like an adult and prove me I’m wrong. Do that and you’ll be outside again in a week.”

She turned around and went to the entrance to greet potential customers, leaving her friend in the back room. She hoped she wouldn’t give her a reason to slap her this time. She hated seeing her sad, but she and Asra wouldn’t be here for her forever, as dreadful as the thought was. She had to make sure she could handle herself, and it was not going on any kind of well. 


End file.
